This Day Tomorrow
by affiliation
Summary: In the lead up to the Uchiha massacre, Itachi faces uncertainty with the clan's increasing conflict. Izumi is confronted with her secret rivalry against Itachi and her developing feelings for him. Shisui encounters a mysterious girl who struggles to understand her existence.
1. Facade

**Universe:** Canon Verse  
 **Rating:** Adult themes, sexual references, coarse language (M 16+)  
 **Categories:** Contains Hetero (F/M) scenes  
 **Icon Picture:** Jonathan Summers

I do not own any Naruto characters

This story is also available on AO3

* * *

When evening rain settles and tufts of clouds recede from the night canvas, Izumi awaits his arrival by the river's maple tree. He has been training since the early hours of afternoon, and as a gesture of her friendship, she decides to walk him home.

"Itachi! Over here," Izumi calls.

As if she is speaking through a disconnected line, Itachi's slow response is almost disconcerting.

He glances wearily in her direction before motioning a wave of acknowledgement.

"What are you doing here so late?" He asks.

His approaching voice is hollow, yet vigilant. She dislikes this sudden wariness he has adopted lately.

"I had a report to write. I was only finishing," she answers sheepishly.

A half-hearted truth. She had completed the report hours ago, but her uneasiness to Itachi's recent change in behaviour has left her eager for details.

"I see," he says steadily.

His tone gives her a strong impression that he knows she is lying. Half-lying. But Itachi would never accuse her.

His nature presents a strong element of keeping unpleasantness silenced, even if it does more harm than good.

Izumi has never been conflicted about this personal aspect of Itachi's, but her never experiencing the unappealing end of such manner is perhaps keeping her opinions neutral.

"Are you hungry? Why don't we get something to eat together?" Izumi suggests.

"Sorry, Izumi, but I have family errands to complete. Maybe another time," he replies.

She stares sulkily at the ground.

"That's what you said last time," she sighs and Itachi is looking slightly uncomfortable, "No, no that is fine. No pressure, I know you have a lot on. I'll walk home with you," she adds quickly.

There is a momentary silence, a stillness that can only be interpreted by the inexplicable expression on Itachi's face and the awkwardness in Izumi's shifting.

"Let's," Itachi says eventually.

Their brief walk towards the Uchiha grounds is saturated in silence. It is not a deliberate discomforting quietness, rather, a silence that is keeping Itachi's mind occupied and expression glazed.

By Izumi's front door, his features break into a tired smile.

"Itachi?"

She watches him carefully, a solemn appearance glides her face.

"Is everything alright?"

He is surprised at her sudden question, yet she sees a fleeting aspect of anxiety flickering his gaze. But Itachi is adept at emotional pretence.

"Everything is alright. Don't look so worried," he answers cheerfully.

She frowns.

"Don't disapprove if I worry, with you looking like that," she says.

"I'd tell you if there was something."

"Promise?"

"Yes. Promise."

And when he disappears into the night, Izumi so desperately wants to believe his beautifully played out facade. Yet on her part, she sees through this, perhaps not of the content of his worries, rather, the painful emotions that are traumatising his insides.


	2. Replacement

_Drip…drip…drip…drip…drip_

"One sixty two, one sixty three, one sixty four, one sixty five…"

 _Drip…drip…drip…_

"One sixty six, one sixty seven, one sixty eight-"

A pause.

"Oh, it stopped."

She thinks her mind is magical and that by counting the number of times she hears the sound, it would eventually stop at the end number she has in mind. But to her conscious mind, it is not aware that her body would automatically attend to the source of disruption before the end number.

When the dripping stops, she returns to her head and keeps her thoughts shrouded in secrecy. Perhaps she does not understand the concept of muses, that it is unique, individualised, and special to that one person. Unless she discloses its content, no one can read it.

It is hours into the night and her legs have liquified from standing in the same position for so long.

She has four experiments to complete in this dainty, darkened lab.

This is where Root conduct their research.

Governed by the great Danzo, Root works solely within the shadows of Konoha.

They have their differences in protecting the village, whose values often clashes with that of the current Third Hokage. But no matter how questionable Danzo's beliefs are, she has quashed all doubts about his tactics.

Had Danzo not given her a chance, she would not be here today.

"Composition of this chemical contains traces of mercury, lead…heavy metals?"

She mutters incoherently, as if constantly speaking to herself is a perfectly normal way of analysing and decoding samples. For this reason, she likes being confined to the laboratory. No one to say she is weird or awkward, or shame her for being fundamentally useless.

But her idea of incompetency does not lie within the 'ordinary life.' She spends time meddling with a bunch of test tubes and toxic chemicals, a task she believes should be incorporated into the 'ordinary life.'

"Those samples are not urgent," says a voice.

She startles and topples over a beaker of silver flakes.

"Danzo-sama," she says quickly.

Disregarding the spillage of those precious metals, she sinks into a heavy, polite bow.

"I've another task for you to do," Danzo says.

"Another task?"

She stares quizzically.

"My only lab worker at the village hospital has recently passed. I therefore, do not have anyone stationed there. You will be the replacement."

"Same task?" She asks curiously.

"Yes. Continue your role as if you were here, but I do expect reports of daily activities. You will also conduct some experiments for me in addition to your task at the hospital lab."

She has a thousand questions, all stemming from her mind's thirst for curiosity. Yet her obedience to Danzo and Root is what keeps her mouth shut and her inquisitiveness suppressed.

"Yes."

"Remember Root's goal. Nullify your emotions and keep all behaviour neutral."

"Yes."

"Starting from tomorrow, you will be known as Honoka."


	3. Compromise

Itachi's erraticism may have stabilised in the next several weeks, but Izumi gets the odd sensation he is forcefully composing himself in her presence.

Today on a brighter time of autumn, Izumi isolates him on his walk.

"What a coincidence," Itachi says suspiciously.

Izumi gestures airily, "Don't make it sound like I ambushed you," she answers.

He gives a brief look of sarcasm before turning away in resignation. Perhaps he knows she would persistently deny the truth.

"You easily relent," she continues thoughtfully.

"No harm in letting you win," he replies insouciantly.

The brazen comment was cleverly hidden beneath his polite mannerism. But Izumi knows him, and though it takes her several long seconds to read through his response, she nevertheless attempts to trod on him for the impudent remark.

"I see through that," Itachi says, and he maneuvers expertly from his position without so much as a natural gait.

She stares disapprovingly at him.

"At least pretend to let me win," she says grumpily, "Guess I'll have to eat all this dango to make myself feel better," she continues dramatically.

"Why would you bring that with you?" Itachi asks interestedly.

His gaze flickers briefly between the coloured sweets in Izumi's hand and their surroundings.

"Eh? I made these for us, a nice walk around the village eating sweets, but you know, since I am feeling down, I would have to eat this all on my own."

She turns her back, smirking.

"If that makes you feel better," he concurs.

"Heh?" She brusquely turns, "You're not going to ask for any?"

This time, Itachi is looking thoroughly confused.

"You said you were going to eat them all because you are feeling down."

She sighs loudly before handing one to him.

"I don't understand," Itachi says hesitantly.

And Izumi inhales deeply, a futile attempt not to laugh at the serious perplexed expression on his face.

"Of course you don't. Men by nature seem quite oblivious to situations like this," she mutters, "Go on, just take it. I'm offering."

And with radiating levels of uncertainty, he tentatively takes it from her.

"I feel like I am missing something," he mumbles.

But his gaze speaks otherwise. It stares unwaveringly at the colourful sweet, as if there is an element of passive triumph surfacing beneath.

When Izumi turns her back to him, she lets out a great sigh of surrender.

"Oh yes, the great Itachi. Excellent ninja, superior in intelligence, yet obviously lacking in reading basic social situations," she sneers and crosses her arms reproachfully.

There is no answer to her mocking comment, so when she turns to check, Itachi is busily eating the dango as if he has not heard a word she said.

"Hey! Are you even listening?"

She glares sulkily at him before truly resigning in displeasure.

x

"I'm sorry I didn't mean to impede on your date, but my mission got moved to tomorrow so I cannot do training with Itachi then, it would have to be tonight," he says.

"That is fine," Itachi answers.

("It is not a date!" Izumi flusters.)

The sun is setting in a miraculous display of red and orange, infiltrating even the darkest corners and alleyways of the village.

Shisui approached them unannounced, a twinge of apprehension and hastiness lining his tired features. And though he appears to be asking permission for Itachi's training, it is more of a statement that he requires Itachi's presence, no matter the objection.

"I'm sure," Shisui answers smugly, "Itachi, meet me at the training grounds in fifteen minutes."

At his comment, there is a sudden surge of energy and motivation swelling from within the recess of Izumi's stomach.

In the past few weeks, she has been training hard, completing missions successfully whilst mastering her weak spots in between hours. And though she is sure of her development, she is uncertain as to how much she has improved.

Having no one to train with during hours of her free time, her opportunity for peer practice has been minimal.

Being jounins, Shisui and Itachi have been on copious missions as of late, leaving a disgruntled Izumi with no one to train with.

But this sudden proposal from Shisui presents the perfect opportunity. She is on a mission tomorrow, an assignment that would render her absence from training with these two had Shisui's mission not been postponed.

"Shisui, can I train too?" Izumi asks tentatively, "I haven't been able to practice with anyone lately so I am not sure how much I've improved."

Shisui and Itachi exchange glances, an almost guilty expression underlying their features.

"Sorry, Izumi, maybe another time," Itachi says.

She stares disappointedly at the ground. Too many rejections it seems, and perhaps made worst by the majority being from Itachi.

"Hey Itachi, that isn't nice," Shisui says quickly, "we all have a responsibility to assist with each other's training."

Izumi perks suddenly.

"Oh no…I don't mean to be an inconvenience or anything, only if you have time, I mean, my skills are nowhere near as superior as the two of you and I might just hold you two back," she says hastily.

Shisui makes a brief nonchalant gesture.

"Don't be silly, we are happy to train with you," he glances at Itachi for some sort of reassurance, but there is a glassy, unfocused expression to his face, "If you feel uncomfortable, why don't we do a little compromise. How about you come train with us halfway through? That way we could get some of our training done and then train together with you on other things."

This captures both Izumi and Itachi's interest.

"That is a good idea, I mean," Izumi flickers uncertainly in Itachi's direction, "if that is okay with you?"

"That would be a good compromise," Itachi agrees.

The jubilant feelings flood through. Perhaps it is the compromise, or the fact that she can finally train with someone, or maybe, just maybe Itachi's agreement.

When they are about to part ways, there is a sudden rush of movement followed by the sounds of collision.

Someone has attempted to squeeze in the gap between Izumi and Shisui. But the two have unknowingly stepped forwards, closing the opening before the person could get through.

Books, scrolls, the shattering of glass and the sounds of flying paper intermeshes with the thud of a body to the ground.

Someone, a girl, slightly older than Izumi is furiously scrambling to her knees and picking up the fallen items. Her face is severely flushed from the commotion, framed by her straight fringe and buried in dirty brown-coloured shoulder length hair.

"Sorry, I'm so sorry," she mutters disjointedly.

Her voice is oddly high pitched, as if there is an element of hysteria intermixed with fruitless self-control.

Shisui is the first to assist, handing her a stack of blank scrolls and scribbled notebooks. She is exuberantly fast at gathering the items, and by the time Izumi and Itachi begin their help, she has already piled the entire contents into a paper box.

"Sorry, I'm so sorry, sorry," she stammers.

"That's okay, it was just an accident," Shisui says kindly.

"I am sorry. I must apologise. I must watch where I am going and not impede on other people's boundaries."

The tone is bizzarely robotic, as if she has rehearsed the same lines over and over.

"You don't have to keep apologising, it's okay," Shisui frowns.

At his words, the girl briefly stares at him with a petrified frozen expression. Then she swiftly bows in apology, throwing terrified glances in Izumi and Itachi's direction before sidling out their way and disappearing from view.

"What a strange person," Izumi says in puzzlement.

"Must not be used to social situations," Shisui says.

On Itachi's end, he is watching the girl's disappearing view with a peculiar look, as if there is a heavy component of doubt and suspicion.

"Itachi?" Izumi queries.

"Never mind," Itachi replies.

"He's contemplating her," Shisui says.

Izumi turns sharply.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Shisui returns her response with a bewildered frown. And it takes several seconds for him to realise the situation.

"Oh," he lets out a short sheepish laugh, "that's not what I meant. You don't get too many people like that around here, Itachi is always vigilant."

There is a sudden deflation of edginess in her chest. The instant relief disturbs her, as if she is afraid of decrypting its meaning.

"Right. Well that does not deter from the fact that she is cute," Izumi answers dismally.

 _She is, though I can't seem to disregard her creepy demeanour._

Izumi looks to Itachi, who is still staring vacantly at some point in the distance.

Somehow, the action evokes another bout of uncontrollable annoyance, yet Izumi keeps her perfect composure of the situation.

"What has that got to do with anything?" Shisui asks curiously.

"Never mind," she answers briskly, "Anyway, see you at the training grounds later tonight."


	4. Determination

The bitter wind and chilling temperature is a perfect representation of his inner turmoil. But neither deters his determination to complete training, nor revisit the urgency represented in Shisui's voice from earlier today.

Cold, exhausted and covered in dirt, Itachi and Shisui stand by the frozen patch of grass that demarcates the training ground from the village.

There is a tense silence fixated between them, as if the subject matter is continuously expanding and is awaiting containment.

Shisui is the first to contain by breaking the odious quietude.

"Things are getting worst. If nothing is done, I am afraid Konoha would eventually bear the brunt of it," he says solemnly.

The turmoil distends uncomfortably, but Itachi has always been adept at containing his own unrest.

This is the first time he is being tested. The conflicting wound that has never healed since tensions mounted over the Nine-tails attack on the village. Yet Itachi's desire to protect the village he loves and pay homage to his clan is something that is now mutually exclusive.

"I know," Itachi answers.

Shisui shares his burden, and the brotherly relationship between them is what keeps his mind from faltering.

"Itachi, she's here."

The rain materialises in soft drops, its frequency far from deterring the overenthusiastic atmosphere of Izumi's approaching energy. He is thankful for her existence, she provides an alternative motivation he finds wildly commendable.

"I'm so ready for this," Izumi pants.

Her entirety is drenched, yet her determination is an overpowering element that exudes zestfully into the dismal atmosphere.

"Right, lets get training shall we?" Shisui says, "Izumi you said you need someone to practice with."

"Yes! My targets have improved, but I need to make sure I get it right," she answers brightly.

"That would mean you need to account for retaliations," Itachi says.

"That's right," Shisui adds, "Izumi, you may be able to target perfectly, but shinobis are volatile. There is always movement. In basic scenarios someone can easily dodge, but others can both attack and defend at the same time."

"That is why your Sharingan would come in handy," Itachi explains.

"Right, how about you and Itachi aim at me and I will evade and retaliate. You will need to defend yourself against the retaliation," Shisui suggests, "Note your blind spots and the nasty weather. It'll impede your vision slightly," he finishes.

x

Shisui may be compassionate, but it seems his lack of empathy during hard training makes up for the minute traces of his unpleasantness.

Perhaps Itachi's presence is fuelling Shisui's actions? Either way, it may be an unfair game on Izumi's end.

In the midst of heinous weather conditions, they train tirelessly. Izumi's determination and willpower has reinforced her ability to push past her limit.

Itachi watches her intently, a simultaneous attempt to attack and evade Shisui's retaliation.

Izumi's aim is perfect, but Shisui's quick elusion and speedy attack is far superior. She is hit multiple times, the cuts and grazes across her arms and back are so evident against the dimness of village lights. And she refuses to relent, not once uttered a word of complaint.

"Izumi, focus more on your Sharingan to pinpoint Shisui's retaliation," Itachi calls.

The rain almost swallows his words, but Izumi briefly glances in his direction as a sign of acknowledgement.

At the next attack, she appears less frantic, an indicator of her chakra's focus towards her eyes.

She times the retaliation perfectly, stopping a flurry of shurikens slicing their way through the air. But her speed seemingly falls short.

Itachi knows Shisui's training tactics. He tends to gravitate towards a multitude of retaliations at once from different directions rather than a single origin.

Izumi sees this, or part of, but cannot keep up with the rapid weapons.

With one piercing sound, the shurikens slice through her back and she topples to the ground in despair.

"Izumi!" Itachi cries, "I think that should be enough for today-"

"No," she mutters, "We keep going."

Shisui approaches, a look of distinct fear across his face.

"My attacks, I aimed it so it wouldn't do this much damage. Why did you deliberately step in the way?" He asks shakily.

"I wanted to dodge all of them," she answers weakly.

"That was bad judgement on your part," Itachi says gravely, "There was no way you could have dodged all of them in your condition. Attacking them with weapons would have been your best bet."

"You dodged them the same," she replies exasperatedly.

"You can't compare yourself to Itachi," Shisui says lowly, "Our skills vary."

Izumi does not answer. Her expression has turned unusually impassive.

"We should get going-" Itachi says.

"No," Izumi interjects stubbornly, "I can still train."

"Izumi, you've worked enough today. If you keep pushing yourself, you would end up bedridden," Shisui says, perplexed.

"You worked hard already," Itachi adds.

At these words, there seems to be a brigade of austere emotions parading Izumi's features.

Then, she lowers her head in what appears to be disappointment, but when she speaks, it is far from it.

"What would you know anything about hard work?"

Her tone is soft and deadly, a strong hint of accusation beneath the very unnaturally composed voice.

"Izumi…"

Itachi stares, unsure of her impending actions. Beside him, Shisui appears to have anticipated the outcome, because he steps back to give space.

"You, of all people, the prodigy, have no rights to decide on what constitutes hard work!" She shouts angrily.

There are tears streaming from her face, the rain providing a background of reinforcement to the rage and frustration of her state.

Then she is brusquely stopping herself, as if she did not mean to speak her mind but her emotions have erupted in a tidal wave of resentment.

Without a word, she pushes past him, disappearing into the vastness of the village.


	5. Definition

The rain is sharp and heavy, falling in rapid successions and slicing like kunais.

Izumi is sitting by a deserted playground, the hardness of wooden bench is a fortifying representation of the pain insider her.

She does not move from her crouched position, nor startle at the sounds of clapping thunder that is progressively increasing in decibels.

Her face is buried in her arms, an adrenaline of guilt surging through. She did not mean to shout or speak spiteful words for that matter. Yet her anger and the rising resentment towards Itachi is undoubtedly profound tonight.

Izumi has been observing his training, hoping to match his skill levels in the near future. But the more she watches him and the more she trains beside him, the further away he gets from her.

And she has no rights to be angry - Itachi is on an entirely different level. She would never measure up against him in abilities.

Even when it comes to self-control and emotional regulation, Itachi is far superior. And the more she thinks of it, the more she hates him for the unfair advantage.

"Izumi!"

She hears the rushed footsteps and the sounds of splashing puddles.

Her slow response is a strong indicator of how deeply she is immersed in her own resentful world.

When she eventually stirs, her uneven gaze looks to Itachi, who is standing before her looking half apprehensive and half relieved.

The rain falls hard now, as if the elements depict the rage that is growing inside her at Itachi's presence. But some other part of her is comforted by his proximity. The confusion surfaces her throat, until the only thing that comes out is the utterance of his name.

"Itachi," she says blankly.

"You were here all along," Itachi says lowly.

They are quiet, allowing the rattling elements to bridge the silent gap between them. Itachi seats himself beside her, his rigid demeanour signifies his inability to handle the situation. And they are there for a long time, the blood stains on Izumi's wounds have long diluted itself into the rain.

"My apologies, Izumi, for the ignorant comment I made earlier," Itachi says.

His voice is soft, soothing and full of contrite.

"No," she says swiftly, "I should be the one to apologise. I didn't mean to condescend you. I...I am ashamed that you went looking for me and apologised for something that wasn't even your fault," she continues sombrely.

Her nails dig viciously into the palms of her hand. A futile attempt to subdue another bout of angry tears from flowing. But the rain provides a deterrence as it fuses with the hot droplets.

"I may have still been insensitive," Itachi replies, "Perhaps I don't truly know what the exact definition of hard work is, but I always believe that people have their own ways of defining it."

Izumi gazes curiously at him.

"As in, varying definitions of hard work?" She asks ruefully.

"Yes."

"But that would mean we don't know what each other's hard work looks like."

"Yes."

She stares at the ground. The puddles are filling and widening in surface area, submerging the patch of grass into a mini lake.

"I answered my own statement," Izumi says eventually.

And perhaps Itachi is right. The definition of hard work is unique to that of the individual. It may be based on their physical and mental limits. Something that is considered hard work to one person may not be to another.

"You're always the more level headed one," Izumi says, and she lets out a short chuckle of resignation.

"You're always the more socially adept one. I could take a leaf out of your book," Itachi says.

And this time, Izumi laughs.

"You're trying to make me feel better aren't you?"

"Yes, but I also speak the truth, on your determination and desire to become stronger."

Those words resonate strongly within her core, yet the weighted burden of her inferior skills comparatively to Itachi's still lingers uncomfortably.

She wishes she could physically separate the two, but Itachi's comforting presence and his representation as a superior shinobi conflicts deeply.

"You're too kind," she replies quietly.

There is an inexplicable expression that is transpiring across Itachi's face, as if he is about to refute her comment but decides to hold back at the last minute.

"Izumi, you should get your wounds looked at," he says.

"Yes, I suppose so."

And she smiles. The heaviness that is burdening her chest suddenly dissolves.

When she attempts to stand, the dizziness gets to her and she collapses painfully against the wooden bench.

"You lost too much blood," Itachi frowns, "I'll assist you."

And with his arm around her waist, he hoists her from the bench, slowly pacing against the atrocious elements toward the village hospital.

"Itachi?"

"What is it?"

"Thank you, for finding me."

 _And for your friendship._


	6. Friend

If there is one thing that needs reform, it is the amount of time a shinobi gets for submitting a report on return from their mission.

But that would defeat the purpose of immediate reporting, not to mention the outcome of the mission. Yet he wishes there be some sort of special medication that allows his mind to concentrate on report writing. That sort of invention would revolutionise everything.

Nevertheless, this is not the perfect world he is in, so the fairly roughened report he has spent the past few hours writing is now ready for submission.

"Thank you, Shisui, I will take into account your recommendations," the Third says.

"The details of the mission regarding Team B is slightly sketchy, but I've already explained earlier about the circumstances. Please review at your earliest convenience," Shisui says.

"I will do that. Well done on the mission's completion, Shisui. As expected of you," the Third replies.

He stares thoughtfully at the report before gesturing for the other two jounins to come forward.

"See to it that the relevant parties in this report are attended to," the Third says, "Don't leave anything out."

"Yes, Hokage-sama," the two jounins choruses.

They disappear, leaving the Third alone with Shisui.

"Shisui, before you leave there are a couple of things I need to ask you."

His tone has turned slightly grim and immediately, Shisui anticipates the direction of their conversation.

"Things are mounting, are they not?"

Shisui surveys the backdrop with mild interest before speaking.

"Yes, though I believe something can still be done about it."

"What do you have in mind?"

"I'm going to try and settle things first, perhaps recruit allies from the clan."

The Third does not immediately speak. Instead, he is staring intently at the previous Hokage portraits as if psychically speaking to them.

"Shisui, you understand that this plan may backfire? What would you do if it does not work out?"

"I'm still in the stages of planning but my last resort may come to utilising _it_ ," Shisui replies earnestly.

There is a brief silence. The Third is contemplating him, though it is more out of concern and perhaps logical tactics than anything personally judgemental.

"Very well. Please keep me in the loop with this," the Third says.

"Yes."

"Also, the last thing I need to ask of you. An autopsy report from another team's mission has arrived but the captain in charge has been posted on another task at last minute. Please collect the report from the hospital on his behalf and analyse the results before sending it through to me."

"Yes."

"Very well, you are dismissed."

x

Not for the first time, he has accepted yet another load of reports that has nothing to do with his own mission. Maybe he should have outwardly protested. A bad call, considering the Third trusts him to complete all missions and reports on time - regardless of whether they are his own or not.

"Maybe I don't look overworked enough," Shisui sighs.

The hospital is deafeningly quiet with an air of gloominess that lingers heavily in the atmosphere.

Within the numerous wards, the beds lie empty, with the exception of two rooms, whose occupants are mysteriously hidden behind closed curtains.

The dim, deserted hallways are bare and clinical, its vastness a strong representation of the loneliness experienced by the patients here.

Two levels above is the collection point for the autopsy report. It is infiltrated with laboratories, medical equipments and medications. There are no patient beds on this level.

At the end of the corridor is the autopsy room solely reserved for mission specific bodies. When Shisui nears, two disgruntled looking researchers are muttering to each other. The level of annoyance and frustration is clearly evident across their faces, and when he passes them, he catches a glimpse of their conversation.

"…honestly why on earth did they hire her?" The first woman says.

There is a sigh of irritation from the second woman.

"I don't know. The last thing we need is a weirdo in our lab. Can't they have put her in another division?"

"She has no idea how to work as a team."

"And did you see the way she speaks? She's a freak of nature, talking to herself like she has an imaginary friend or something."

"Honestly, it's downright creepy. I mean, her predecessor was okay, at least he was nice. It's a shame he died so soon."

"Regardless, they should have taken our feelings into consideration. I mean, we are the ones who have to work with her."

"Also…did you see the way she dresses too? I think her wardrobe consists of two outfits she rotates between. Yuck."

"How old is she?

"Like hell I know."

"Why don't you ask her?"

"And be caught talking to a freak?"

The women let out a chorus of malicious giggles before disappearing around the corner.

 _Is there really a need to speak like that behind someone's back?_

Shisui frowns. Perhaps it is something he will never understand, though he cannot help but feel uneasy about the situation.

"Here you go, the autopsy report has been completed. Sign and date here so that we know it has been taken."

The woman in the autopsy lab hands Shisui the report before disappearing behind a pair of ominous steel doors.

On his way out, the sounds of a commotion at the opposite end of the corridor is undoubtedly calamitous to the ears. The voices are familiar, and when Shisui turns the corner, the two women from earlier appear to be arguing with someone.

"Can you not even do one thing right?" the first woman cries.

"We are your seniors, follow our orders or there will be trouble," the other sneers.

Shisui's height is a good advantage in certain circumstances. He stands afar to observe, his gaze tracking the source of noise over the women's heads.

There is a third woman, a girl, not much younger than him, with her back turned against the other two. Another bizarre but quieter sound is emitting from the girl, and it takes several moments for Shisui to realise that she is speaking very rapidly.

"Two test tubes containing potassium stored to the left of the shelf behind the sixth counter towards the back. Ten empty beakers rinsed with ethanol stored beneath each station. Labels to be erased…"

There is a loud groan from the second woman.

"She isn't even listening!"

"For the last time, the instructions change so put those beakers onto the trolley for treatment. Are you stupid?" The first woman shrieks.

There is a deafening crash as the second woman deliberately pushes the girl to the ground. A flurry of books and scrolls disperses into the air before landing dully on the ground.

"Give me that-"

Shisui doesn't enjoy impeding on other people's business, but he won't stand for bullying.

"Hey, that isn't very nice," he intervenes.

He has managed to lodge himself in between the two women and the girl, a disconcerting expression plastering his features.

The first woman almost retaliates automatically, but it appears she is holding herself back at the last second.

"Oh," she says quickly, "Shisui-san, sorry."

The woman gives a brief bow of apology, a flush of red searing her cheeks.

"Let's go," she continues hastily.

Then she is taking the other woman's hand before disappearing from view.

Beside him, the girl is busy picking up the fallen contents of her box. And something of this scenario evokes a strong sense of deja vu.

"You are-" Shisui starts.

But his words are consumed by the sounds of the girl's incessant muttering.

"…potassium stored to the left of the shelf behind the sixth counter towards the back. Ten empty beakers rinsed with ethanol…."

Without further questioning, Shisui assists with collecting the items, and when he gives them to its owner, she is gazing curiously as if they are magically floating in midair.

"Here, take them," Shisui says, "I hope you're okay?"

There is a fleeting silence. Her gaze is strangely stoic, as if she is revisiting unpleasant memories. But it disappears seconds later and her watch slowly moves to Shisui's face.

"It's you again," she states monotonously.

"Huh?" The word leaves him in bafflement, "Oh right, I think I've seen you before-"

"It's the guy who told me to stop apologising," she interjects blankly.

"Eh?"

She stares absent-mindedly at him, as if he is the most boring thing she has ever seen.

"The 'it was just an accident' guy," she continues impassively.

Shisui returns her response with increasing incredulity, but he is careful not to display it fully.

"I'm unsure what you are trying to say."

"The guy who told me to stop apologising," she answers.

"Do you really have to put it like that?" Shisui replies sheepishly.

"I'm sorry," she says dully, "How about the guy with the couple?"

This time, the look of disbelief is evident across his face.

"I'm not sure what you're getting at but-"

"I'm sorry," she interrupts swiftly, "How about-"

"Shisui is fine," he interposes loudly.

"Shisui," she states and there is a momentary pause, "Are you trying to be my friend?"

For a split moment, her look of disinterest and boredom flickers to something that appears like curiosity.

"I never had that intention…"Shisui answers slowly.

The confusion hits incredibly hard. He is uncertain of what to say or think in relation to the oddity of this situation.

"That mustn't be right," the girl says, "I've read that if someone tries and helps you when you're being bullied, that means they want to be your friend."

"Oh…"

The stark admission is overwhelmingly discomfiting. Still, Shisui is unsure if he should tell the truth and risk offending her, or lie and lead her to awkward situations in future.

"Maybe the book is wrong. I find that hard to believe," the girl says pensively.

She stares at the ground, as if concentrating on a difficult and complex problem.

And had Shisui not encountered her earlier and seen the varying expressions of her embarrassment and fear, he would have no trouble believing that she is a robot.

"I'll think about it," the girl says eventually, "Thank you for your help," and she gives a brief bow of respect, completely disregarding the look of astonishment on Shisui's face.

"One moment," he says quickly, "you never introduced yourself."

The girl stares wildly, a look that is increasingly pushing the boundaries of what most people would deem respectful.

"Honoka," she answers shortly.

Then she is turning in the opposite direction, head down and muttering to herself as if nothing too out of the ordinary has just happened.

"Two test tubes containing potassium stored to the left of the shelf behind the sixth counter towards the back. Ten empty beakers rinsed with ethanol stored beneath each station. Labels to be erased…"

If there is one thing Shisui has learnt, it is the diversity in people's personalities. He has never come across anyone so strange before.


	7. Respect

Winter brings a host of changes to the village of Konoha and its resourceful residents. Night hours are blazed with restaurants and markets in preparation for Konoha's Winter Festival.

Today marks the first practice workshop for Izumi, and she is by the training grounds where a mixture of Genins and Chunnins have congregated.

The intensive workshop comprises of both theoretical work and gruelling practical training. Those who successfully complete the training may be nominated on merit for the Council's Mission.

The Council's Mission is a prestigious assignment that involves escorting influential people between villages and other locations. The prestige comes from the recommendations given by the influential person and the enormous sum of money. It is often a one-off mission, with the occurrence happening only twice a year at most.

The Hokage, together with the village's council and senior members determine who is assigned the Mission.

Uchiha Itachi was given the Council's Mission three years in a row.

But this year, Izumi is determined to take the winning streak from him. As the majority of nominees are of Jounin status, joining the practice workshop is the main way to be nominated as a Chunnin. But no one has ever fully completed the workshop in the past two years.

"That's going to change," Izumi says.

"I'm banking on you to get through the entire thing this year, Izumi-san," Nanami says.

Nanami graduated together with Izumi, yet she has only made Chunnin very recently. And though she lacks confidence in ninjutsu skills, her analytical abilities are exceptional.

"Yes! I won't let you down," Izumi answers brightly.

"Five weeks of this every day. I'm glad we are exempt from missions," Nanami sighs.

"Nanami," Izumi says disapprovingly, "Five weeks is nowhere near enough for good training, and besides we aren't entirely exempt from missions. We are only allowed a maximum of one mission a week."

"Eh?" Nanami groans, "You have way too much stamina."

x

"That theory lesson was a killer," Nanami sighs, "Glad that's over now. Izumi-san, how about some food to finish off the day?"

They are filing out the classroom, heads filled with new facts and tactics concerning large haul missions.

"No can do, I have a report to write that I haven't finished," Izumi answers.

That is a lie. And Nanami sees right through it.

"How many times have I told you? Your excuses won't work on me, no matter how convincing you come across," Nanami replies disinterestedly.

Then, her spine straightens and a look of immense curiosity inundates her features.

"You're not going to see Itachi again, are you?" She asks suspiciously.

Perhaps it was the sudden accusation, but the red flush across Izumi's face is a non-verbal confirmation to Nanami's question.

"Keep at it and he might think you're a stalker," she continues quizzically.

"We're close friends. No way would he ever think that," Izumi mutters.

But a slit of unease opens somewhere at the back of her head. It trickles slowly, until she can feel it in the pits of her stomach.

The last thing she wants is for Itachi to accuse her of stalking him, or consider her in any way that may be a hinderance to their friendship.

"Are you alright? You look pale all of a sudden? Did my theory hit you that hard?"

Nanami peers closely, until Izumi can see the little freckles on her face and count the number of frown lines on her forehead.

"Speaking of which, I don't think you'd be able to ambush him anyways if you wanted," Nanami continues, and she is pointing sharply at the large windows looking out the village.

Itachi and Shisui are deep in conversation, as if the world around them has ceased to exist. There is a heavy look of concern and anxiety flickering between them, yet for several brief moments, Itachi's expression is almost inexplicable.

When they disappear behind a wall of houses, Izumi stares glumly at the ground.

Itachi is hiding something, and whatever it is, the level of concern is escalating. She is unsure how it is affecting him, and though he has made a promise to her, she gets the horrifying sensation that he is deliberately barring her from a significant truth.

"Izumi-san?"

"Yes? Oh…yes, you are right. Not that I was going to ambush him anyways," she answers swiftly, "And those two are always together so I can't be the stalker here," she finishes self-consciously.

"They're best friends, a bit different I suppose. Though at least your interest in Itachi provides some form of entertainment to your life aside from missions and study," Nanami breathes.

Before Nanami, Izumi does not refute the veracity of her statement. But internally, she does not want to believe her interest in Itachi extends further than her friendship for him. Yet a small part of her wishes for something else.

And she knows, be it intuitively or a fact, Itachi will never see her more than a friend.

"Lots of people for you to scout and be interested in," Izumi says.

"What's that supposed to mean? You know my standards are high, I'm not going for the bunch of wusses in our cohort."

"Shallow, are you not? But I get you, it seems us girls like to focus more on the powerful."

Nanami stares guiltily at her hands.

"I told myself I would never be shallow in that way, yet I seem to only venture towards men who are strong, and powerful and intelligent. The only problem is, they don't treat women very well, they always like to see us as a burden," she says sadly.

"Not all are like that," Izumi answers quietly.

They are momentarily silent.

"Sorry, Izumi, I didn't mean to offend you, I just-"

"It's okay," she interrupts, "it just so happens that the powerful and intelligent have zero capacity for respect. I think, the ones that has it all, there are only so few of them left."

"Itachi is great, is he not?" Nanami asks.

She is staring inquisitively at Izumi, as if desperate for an answer that all hope may not be lost for powerful people with a good heart.

"Yes."

And whether that is a lie, Izumi does not know. She has known Itachi for so long, yet the many years of friendship between them may not be enough for him to entrust her with important information.

"You picked a good person then," Nanami says lightly, and she breaks through Izumi's temporary reverie, "Maybe I'll be able to find someone one day," she finishes.

"It's not a competition," Izumi laughs, "And also, I think Shisui is a great person."

"Eh?" Nanami stares, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means exactly as I say it means. It's time for training, see you!"


	8. Loyalty

There is never time for sentimentality. In the shinobi world, a warp idea of reflection is encouraged to push past the grief and loss of fallen comrades. But this perception does not necessarily stop at death.

Questionable acts of treason for the benefit of humanity are briefly justified, mourned and actioned. The warp idea of reflecting on what constitutes as right or wrong is never explored, or rather, not given sufficient time for exploration.

And that holds true with the escalating tension between the elite Uchiha clan and its village.

In the quietude of the night, Itachi stands before his father in forced composure. They have spoken little since plans for the coup d'etat was announced several weeks ago.

Yet tonight, Uchiha Fugaku is ready to converse.

"Itachi, I sense a heightened level of hesitance coming from you," his father says.

Is his crumbling level of self-control that transparent?

Itachi has always been at odds with his clan's stringent ideology of superiority. He does not understand the notion of such thoughtless bragging or the reasoning for it, yet his loyalty to the clan is more out of respect for his family than anything to do with being born an Uchiha.

"Is reclaiming the clan's dignity more beneficial than preventing a possible civil war?" Itachi asks.

His tone is hard and rigid, as if there is only one correct answer to his question.

"Are you having doubts about this? You must know that the Uchiha comes first. We have been unfairly oppressed and accused of things we had no responsibility for. You must know this by now, Itachi."

Itachi does not speak, but the unwavering passive look on his face does little to spell out his thoughts.

"Itachi, think about your responsibilities to the clan. You are a Uchiha. Honouring the clan's name is a priority, even if conflict is a consequence."

A disregard for life? Has his father not thought of the long term consequences of his impending actions?

Yet still, his family's needs and their happiness is also paramount.

x

The raw chills of winter brings relief to the passive boiling rage of his home's atmosphere.

The skies are clouded tonight, and for the first time ever, Itachi can finally appreciate the element's bitter coldness reciprocating inside him. And though his mind has hypnotised itself into a blank reverie, Izumi's voice floats through and brings him back to actuality.

"Itachi," she says, "What are you doing standing out here in the cold?"

She surveys him closely before his sudden break from the trance startles her.

"Fresh air," he answers bluntly, but his gaze has tuned into the darkened surroundings.

When Izumi does not answer, Itachi eventually returns his gaze.

There is a sudden look of determination and apprehension floating her watch, and when she steps closer with a clear look of interrogation, his mind is instantly curious.

"Itachi, you've been hiding something from me," she says tensely, "I can tell, and you promised you would-"

"The coup d'etat. Izumi, what do you make of that?" He interrupts swiftly.

He does not know why he is disclosing this matter to her. Izumi has been informed of the Uchiha's impending actions, yet something in Itachi's tone may have indicated his underlying concern.

"Coup d'etat," she repeats in puzzlement, "Is that what you are concerned about, Itachi?"

He does not speak. Izumi knows him well, and he finds it slightly intimidating.

"I see where the Uchiha is coming from, but that doesn't mean I agree. It is not a pleasant way of dealing with the clan's oppression, yet there is still a strong element of loyalty I have devoted and entrusted towards the Uchiha."

Her explanation is firm, though traces of uncertainty lines her words. Perhaps Itachi knows her more than he thinks he does.

"Itachi?"

He is reverting into a world of blank reveries again. Her voice is almost like a weapon that is used to pull him from that strange state. And when he re-focuses on her, she is watching him with an odd expression.

"Itachi, please at least say something," she says hesitantly, "Because you staring at me like that is getting a bit creepy."

The numbness of falling into a reverie has turned the last thirty seconds of his world blank.

"Sorry, Izumi, I think I just zoned out a bit," he says apologetically.

"Maybe you're tired. I guess it's too early for bed, maybe a nap?" She suggests brightly, "I do it all the time, it helps," she adds knowingly.

He stares incredulously at her.

How does she have time to do that?

"Itachi…why are you staring like that again…"

Her expression has slowly morphed into something like trepidation, followed by a surge of reddish embarrassment.

"Is there something on my f-face?" She continues frantically.

The confusion is stark across Itachi's features, yet he does not question her demeanour for fear of making assumptions.

Then Izumi is swiftly turning, a frenetic jumble of words dancing its way out her mouth and into the now still atmosphere.

"It must be…something on my teeth…food leftover….dammit, I should not have eaten those seaweed snacks, it sticks to your teeth…why didn't I check the mirror before I got here…he was definitely staring at it…"

("I don't know what's going on," Itachi utters).

"Where is it? Where's the mirror…I can't feel any leftover food along my teeth…I think it's gone…I need to check…I can't risk it…Itachi…did you see anything?"

Izumi turns sharply, her hand covering her mouth in mortification.

"See what?"

There is instant deflation in her mysterious panic-stricken state.

"Well, see you later," she mutters quickly.

Then she is gone before Itachi can register her absence.


	9. Gratitude

Down time between missions is considered a rare occurrence, and the higher a shinobi's ranking, the more responsibility there is during off duty work.

In the midst of a chilling winter day, the existence of down time and no off duty work has finally merged to give Shisui an entire day of nothing.

He is rarely home at such early hours of the morning, but the routine of waking by five has undoubtedly been ingrained into him. And although his mind is half asleep, his body is proactively preparing for an imaginary long day ahead.

By seven, the chirping sounds of birds and the rattling of his neighbours's doors have fully emerged with the rising sun. The best use of a lazy winter's day is the appreciation of sunlight and a stroll around the village markets.

At his front door, there is a small package wrapped tidily in green wrapping paper and set inconspicuously to the side. This gives Shisui the strange sensation of its deliberate placement - that passersby cannot see it.

Inside, the package contains several oddly shaped sweets, together with a note that reads in small, neat handwriting,

 _"Dear Shisui_

 _Thank you for your recent assistance._

 _Please find enclosed a small gift of gratitude._

 _I hope this meets your expectations._

 _Honoka"_

Shisui frowns.

 _What is this? A business transaction?_

He almost laughs out loud, but decides to keep quiet at the look of his neighbour's furious morning expression.

Though he finds the gift a pleasant surprise, the reasoning behind it is even more baffling.

x

"…another way to show gratitude is to make something special. For example, food is a common gift but taking the time out to create something from scratch shows your appreciation. You could try making sweets as it is a simple thing to give someone…"

There is a pause.

"Hmm…I'm sure I got that right then," she says thoughtfully.

"Got what right?"

The book snaps shut in agitation. There is an expression of frozen bewilderment that is increasing in potency before settling complacently across Honoka's face.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you," Shisui grins.

It takes several long seconds for Honoka to break the glassy expression, as if the source of commotion is benign and she can finally step from her frozen hideout.

"Shisui," she states blankly.

"I got your gratitude gift, thanks for that," he says cheerfully.

Shisui did not expect her presence at the library, considering she is the type who is likely to hibernate within the walls of a laboratory. And perhaps it is also a pure coincidence that he happened to walk in on her reading a book about gratitude.

"Oh," she says slowly, "you are thanking me for thanking you with a gift."

Her features remain opaque, but there is almost a level of interest piquing on the edges of her gaze.

"Oh…I suppose so," he answers awkwardly.

Again, he is unsure of the peculiarity of such situation.

As an ANBU, he has dealt with numerous personalities on missions, from the overly friendly to the strangely bizarre. But Honoka's eccentricity and uniqueness adds a whole new dimension to the ideology of unconventional. And to him, the quirkiness is reinforced in an incredibly amusing way.

"Shisui, may I ask you something?" Honoka asks politely.

There is now an element of curiosity sweeping her face, and for the briefest of moments, Shisui wonders what this blank and vacant person would look like if she actually smiled.

"Go ahead," he replies.

"You came here and spoke to me and thanked me for thanking you," she hesitates before rummaging through a pile of books, "this book," she extracts a little blue book that appears untouched, "it says if someone tries and talks to you for the second time, then it definitely means they are interested in becoming your friend."

She closes the book and places it in her bag before speaking.

"So Shisui, I will ask you again, are you trying to be my friend?"

Then, she stares intently at him, as if the fate of their odd relationship relies heavily on his answer.

And when Shisui gazes back in pure puzzlement, Honoka continues to survey him with insurmountable fixation. She does not remove her watch from him, even when his body language provides a clear indicator of his discomfort.

Honoka may be used to hearing a prompt answer, but her definition of punctuality does not extend into the zone of 'normality.'

Several seconds into Shisui's stunned silence and a sudden change of demeanour fills the space. Honoka is looking confused, fearful even, yet Shisui gets the feeling that she may be nervous.

He has witnessed such radiating emotions of fear and apprehension on missions, that an enemy is lying, or poorly suppressing strong emotions of trepidation. And though he gets a similar vibe from the current situation with Honoka, he is uncertain whether they may be her true feelings.

"I am happy to sit and await your answer," she says firmly.

Shisui has never been pushed into such silence before, and certainly not in a way that elicits an awkward aura. But though deciphering Honoka's behaviour and thought patterns may prove onerous in future, he finds her incredibly interesting.

If anything, perhaps he may be of help to her in the sphere of social skills?

"Yes, actually," he answers eventually.

Honoka does not stir at his reply, but there is a momentary flicker of attentiveness as she watches him carefully with undivided attention.

"I see," she says, "well in that case, I will accept your offer of friendship."

"That's a relief to hear," Shisui says tentatively, "and you don't always have to go by the book, I suppose it'd be nice for you to understand those social things through experience," he finishes airily.

"Is that so? How will I understand through experience?" She asks curiously.

"Social interactions?"

"I don't have any," she says bluntly.

The revelation comes as no surprise to him, yet he cannot help but feel a tinge of sympathy for her.

"We are friends now, right? I can help you with that," he says.

There is silence. Honoka stares apprehensively between Shisui and the pile of books beside her. And there is a deep frown etched between her forehead, as if she is contemplating an incredibly complex problem.

"Okay, I will accept that. Thank you."


	10. Unspoken

Dusk is the dematerialisation of bright yellow-orange rays and a solid indicator that training should cease for the day.

But such rules do not apply when Izumi is in picture. She has been training hard since the commencement of the workshop training two weeks ago. Determination to win swallows water like the thirsty grounds of a desert, and Izumi is perfectly in sync with her audacious mindset.

Tonight, Shisui and Itachi have been training by her side, another identical routine as the last.

One factor, however, is different this time. Izumi is going to dodge Shisui's attacks in perfect tandem.

"You only managed to scrape yourself twice so far, Izumi," Shisui calls from somewhere between the trees.

Exhaustion may seep through, but willpower gets her savagely ignoring the pulsating pain that is now growing by the deep wounds of her shoulder.

"I'll dodge them all this time!" Izumi cries.

And when she turns to give Itachi the nod of approval, someone is standing by his side with the most lifeless expression she has ever seen.

Yet Izumi instantly recognises her.

At their prolonged silence to the newcomer, Shisui has dropped from the trees and is heading towards them with a peculiar expression.

"Excuse me," the girl says frankly, "But you are hurt, shouldn't you patch yourself up?"

She raises and points a slack finger in Izumi's direction.

"What?"

Izumi's tone sounds contempt, but the brusqueness of her response to such a blunt question is perhaps lending a cold atmosphere to the way she is speaking.

"You are clearly exhausted and hurt. Therefore you must fix that, get better and then continue training later," the girl answers pragmatically.

"I'm fine," Izumi says firmly, "I can continue. I have enough stamina anyways."

"But you're hurt, therefore you need to fix it."

"Just because I'm hurt, it doesn't mean I can't continue training," Izumi says quickly.

She is good at withholding vexed emotions, but this girl appears to be challenging her mode of suppression in a very seamless manner.

"That doesn't seem to make much sense. If you're hurt then you-"

"Honoka, it's not black or white," Shisui interrupts quickly.

"I don't think she understands that," Itachi adds quietly.

There is a brief stillness that is crisscrossing in all four directions. Whether the cause is from Honoka's discomfiting stare between Itachi and Izumi, or the fact Shisui seems to know her, Izumi can hardly believe the incredulity of this situation.

"One part of the couple seems to understand," Honoka says pensively, and she is nodding at Itachi.

"Couple?" Izumi blinks.

"Yes, couple. You and him-"

"Honoka! There's an amazing art exhibition I'd like you to see," Shisui interjects uneasily, "We better get going or we will miss it. Sorry guys, training's done for tonight."

He is already taking her by the shoulder and shifting her from the tense quietude that is escalating as Izumi and Itachi processes the comment.

"Must we see such thing at this hour?" Honoka asks.

"Hold on, what do you mean by couple?" Izumi demands dubiously.

But Shisui gives her a brief wave to indicate their departure, leaving a score of sheepish edginess between them.

x

There is too much unspoken embarrassment infiltrating their surrounding space.

Honoka's comment has left a gaping hole of sheer awkwardness that seems to intensify the longer they stay silent.

"Erm…I'm sure she didn't mean anything by that," Izumi says tenatively.

But Itachi appears deeply glazed, as if reality has disappeared and his state of mind exists only in another world.

Izumi keeps quiet, her watch tracking his gaze towards the backs of Shisui and Honoka. She is wondering if Itachi's mind is hovering over their presence, or that another issue - perhaps the coup d'etat - has gotten hold of his conscious.

When Izumi gently taps his shoulder, Itachi instantly breaks from the seemingly heavy reverie.

"Sorry, Izumi, I must have zoned out," he states.

"No matter," she answers, "I supposed we should go on home now."

Her tone has turned abnormally cold and dismissive, yet Izumi is unsure of its origin. But Itachi knows her well, because he turns and gives the briefest smile of reassurance.

"We can still continue to train, I know how much you want to get those dodges right," he says.

His offer sends a wave of exhilarating energy through her. Suddenly she is feeling alive, awakened.

"Really?"

He nods.

"I don't know what to say," she continues appreciatively.

"It is important to you. I understand your position," he replies.

At his comment, there is the briefest of moment Izumi is raising her arms in the air, an unconscious effort to embrace him out of gratitude. And perhaps Itachi is aware of that microsecond attempt, because he stalls and swiftly turns away.

On Izumi's end, she is uncertain of its meaning, but the awkward hesitation does little to deter her mood.

She is going to get the dodging right without a scratch.


	11. Irony

Comparatively to a person who is not Honoka from Root, the early hours of evening is a time for relaxation with friends, family and comrades.

But Honoka's circadian rhythm works in mysterious ways. The bright village lights and babbling of crowds along the streets does not bode well with the desperate urge to lock herself in the comfort of her own home - or the laboratory. Whichever is closest in proximity.

However, her new friend, Shisui, is completely oblivious to the radiating energy of her discomfort and sleepiness. Yet her mind and body does little to discourage his eagerness for this so called 'art exhibition.' And when they stand before a deserted little house that clearly signifies that the doors would not open until at least another fifteen hours, the confusion strikes Honoka hard.

"Excuse me, but why are we standing before a closed shop?" She asks.

"I wasn't intending to take you here in the first place. It was the first thing I thought of," Shisui breathes.

He is looking weary, but something in his demeanour indicates allayment of an invisible pain.

"Why did you bring me here specifically?"

Shisui gives a brief wave of airiness.

"No, no, nothing to do with this place in particular. I just had to get you out of a sticky situation."

She stares inquisitively.

"I wasn't covered in anything sticky," she says.

For a transient moment, Shisui returns her comment with an unfathomable look, as if there is a feature of bewilderment and he is frenetically looking for the simplest words to use. But his expression softens.

"I meant, get you out of a bad situation…or rather an awkward one," he answers waveringly.

They were in a bad situation? It must be her lack of social awareness again.

"I see. Then I sincerely apologise as I was unaware of the situation," she replies contritely.

When Shisui gives her a small smile and places a comforting hand on her shoulder, she instantly feels a wave of reassurance.

"Don't worry, you are still learning after all. Izumi and Itachi aren't a couple," he pauses, as if there is a hidden smirk beneath his sentence and he is restraining himself, "I'm wondering what made you think that?" He finishes.

"I overheard you several weeks ago saying they were on a date," she replies promptly.

Then she is rummaging through her bag and dragging a thick colourful book from the very bottom.

"It says in this book," she begins flicking through the pages, "-this chapter here…that if someone is on a date, it means they are either a couple or will be a couple. I assumed that if they were not already a couple on that date, I would give them several days before they would become one. It would therefore give me some leeway, just in case."

Even as she explains, the look on Shisui's face seems to indicate his judgment on her rather than her explanation. And the strange silence saunters through, as if Shisui is still deciding on how to comment on her statement.

"You must have listened in that day," he says slowly.

"My apologies, I did not mean to eavesdrop,"

"No, no it's fine. Happens all the time," he waves quickly, "but I spoke out of sarcasm."

"Sarcasm? So it was untrue then?"

He nods feverishly.

"The use of irony. I see. That is something I find difficult to comprehend," she ponders contemplatively.

"Why were you at the training grounds tonight anyway?"

He surveys her curiously, as if determining whether she was up to something sketchy.

"I was trying to reinforce our friendship," she answers truthfully.

When Shisui continues to stare in confusion, she takes it as a cue that he did not understand what she meant. She has learnt that silence and a baffled look may call for further explanations.

And without awaiting his response, she rummages through her bag and pulls out a second, thick book.

"This book says friends would often greet each other if they see them around town. Friends would also come and have a conversation or observe what the other may be doing and then discuss about it. I haven't really seen you around town, so I thought I would go find you and try and reinforce our friendship by observing and then talking to you thereafter."

At the completion of her exposition, Shisui's face has turned slightly blank, perhaps out of disbelief - with a hint of amazement.

"Honoka, you only do that out of coincidence, not deliberation," Shisui corrects.

He is still gazing at her in pure astonishment, but Honoka's lack of social cues cannot process such signals.

"Is that so?"

She does not understand. Perhaps she should have stuck by the book instead of trying to change things on her own.

The thought sends a funny sensation of cramping through her chest. She is uncertain of its significance, but the gloomy feeling resonates in the same way when her laboratory comrades deride her for no valid reason.

"I apologise then. I've read that friends who do not see each other may drift apart, especially in the early stages. I didn't want that to happen so I thought I would read up on finding a way to reinforce the friendship."

"Honoka," Shisui comes close and puts another reassuring hand on her shoulder, "You don't need to force yourself to such extent. The missions have been taking a lot of my time lately so I am not in town most days. If it is easier for you, we can work on a schedule."

"Do friends do that?"

"Of course."

"I see. Well then, I will accept that suggestion."

And with incredible speed, she draws out another book - a notebook - and begins the onerous task of documenting.

"Honoka?" Shisui stares hesitantly, "What are you doing?"

"I am writing all this down. I have not come across the advice you spoke of earlier in any of the books, so I need to note this for later, just in case a scenario like this happens again," she answers without looking at him.

And so for the next couple weeks, Honoka finds the scheduled meeting a relief. Perhaps it is something she is familiar with, something to look forward to. But more importantly, she now has a friend (according to the book).


	12. Victory

The imminent arrival of Konoha's annual Winter Festival brings a convoy of emotional joviality through the raw snowy atmosphere. For four weeks, Izumi has been training hard, the determination to claim first prize nomination for the Council's Mission resonates with insurmountable pressure.

But the true mark of victory resides in breaking Itachi's three year winning streak. She won't back down that easily and Itachi is acutely aware of her competitiveness.

Training does not occur simultaneously with Itachi and Shisui, or one or the other. If she can show the village leaders how much she has improved, and her skills are that of a strong jounin, Izumi hopes to be selected this year.

But first - the nomination.

Today, after a long theory driven lesson that sends her mind buzzing with ridiculous fantasies that has everything to do with beating Itachi, her body is agitated from two hours of sedentary behaviour.

Outside, Nanami is waiting by the door for some surprising news.

"Izumi-san!" She calls cheerfully.

Her short stature gets her lost in the transient stampede of those filing out the classroom. But her bright red hair is visible from the gaps of students. Izumi seizes the chance to creep between people and reach her before she is swept by the crowd.

"Found you," Izumi pants.

"Why are you breathing so hard?" Nanami asks.

"Held my breath. I was wading through people," she utters irritably.

Nanami finds this incredibly amusing. Her laughter reverberates dizzily across the now long empty corridors, rebounding on every wall until it hits Izumi with escalating annoyance.

"It is funny I suppose, but your laughter hurts a bit too much," Izumi says reproachfully.

"Never mind that, how was class?"

"Boring. I was fantasising about-"

"Itachi. I know," Nanami interjects.

She gives a low smirk before turning the opposite direction. Perhaps this is a good tactic. The searing redness across Izumi's face may be interchanging between rage and embarrassment.

"Izumi-san, have you seen the merit board for the Council's Mission nominations yet?"

This comment instantly neutralises every thought and feeling played out several seconds ago.

"It's out already?"

Her tone is soft with shaken fear and as she trails after Nanami towards the noticeboard, every part of her has dissolved into one apprehensive mess.

And though seeing Nanami's bright smile and Izumi's name plastered ever so boldly against the white backdrop, her body is still meddling around in a liquified state.

"Izumi-san? Are you okay?"

Nanami's voice is oddly vexed, and perhaps she expected a more vivacious response from Izumi, rather than a despondent, petrified look of anxiety.

"I don't believe this," Izumi says ruefully.

"What's there not to believe?"

The audacious tone is reminiscent of a dictator commanding a group of ninjas at war. Except, there is a soft, feminine edge to it, a bizarre contradiction that is incongruent in nature.

"Yuki!" Nanami exclaims.

She is tall, rather burly but her pretty face makes up for the well built muscular figure.

They met on the first week of workshop training, and though her domineering personality was initially a deterrent, Izumi came to appreciate the vivid confidence she exuded. However, her comfort with Yuki extends only in Nanami's presence. She finds the last several weeks with Yuki undoubtedly stressful.

Nanami, to Izumi's chagrin, had withdrawn from the workshop training two weeks in, stating her physicality and stamina were no match against the other students.

"I'm better off analysing the situation rather than fighting," Nanami stated simply.

For reasons beyond Izumi's understanding, the three have become friends, or rather, Izumi's acceptance of Yuki was possibly done out of angst and curiosity.

"Izumi, give yourself more credit. You worked hard," Yuki assures.

Despite Yuki's initial presence, there is not a shred of competitiveness to her. Izumi does not understand her ideals and goals. She is incredibly strong and adept in all aspects of ninja skills, yet there appears to be a passive rhythm of reluctancy when engaging in combat.

She has never been on a mission with Yuki before, nor know of anyone who has, yet Yuki's reputation as chunnin amongst the jounins are exceedingly high.

"I thought it would be you of all people who would get it," Izumi says dispiritedly.

"Heh? Are you regretting this?" Yuki chides.

"It's not that, I just-"

"You're too difficult to understand, Izumi. Take it as it is," Yuki interjects.

The brief quietude almost transcends awkwardness, but Nanami's quick sense for such imminent situations is unusually high.

"Izumi-san, who will you bring to the ceremony?" she asks airily.

When she is looking puzzled, the syncing sighs from Nanami and Yuki are denigrating.

"All nominees bring a partner to the ceremony. It's traditional," Yuki grins.

"Who will it be, I wonder," Nanami smirks and Izumi knows exactly what she is playing at.

"I'm not bringing anyone," she answers solemnly.

"I thought blending in was your thing?"

Izumi looks troubled. Nanami catches her weak points and knows the precise time to strike.

"I'll take someone if you do," Izumi proposes, "Of course it's not compulsory for you to go, but it'd be nice for some moral support."

Her lips tighten in a fruitless attempt to contain a triumph snicker. Izumi happens to know Nanami's weak spots, yet she never seems to see it coming.

"I told you, there isn't anyone I would want to take with me. And why can't you pick on Yuki?" Nanami mutters disprovingly.

"Yuki is on mission that entire week," Izumi says, and she sends Yuki a nod of significant agreement.

Nanami keeps quiet, but there is contemplation underlying her gaze. And when she stares uncomfortably at Izumi, a jolt of guilt hits her and she silently breathes in resignation.

"If you ask Itachi, I will go with someone," Nanami says eventually.

There is now a flicker of victory across her face, mellowed by the eagerness that is the excited demeanour she exudes at the expense of Izumi's embarrassment.

"You're not getting away with it that easy," Izumi says brusquely, "I'll ask Itachi if you ask whoever I pick."

And it maybe the vexed impatience of the scenario but Nanami's answer is unexpected.

"Fine," she answers firmly, "Who will it be?"

But Izumi has not given it much thought. She initially wanted Nanami to concede defeat, yet events have turned against her.

"Shisui," she replies without thinking.

"Heh? I don't even know him."

"You're in luck. I do."


	13. Introduce

The Uchiha's relocation sits within a rancorous atmosphere that radiates to the village's core. Many civilians are wary of the Uchiha's supposed involvement during the Nine Tail's catastrophe. The tension mounts ever so heavily, yet aspects of proactive rebel has been minimal.

Though Izumi refuses to engage deeply with such issues, she senses an escalation of apprehensive restlessness in both Itachi and Shisui.

Her instinct is to reach out, assist, but the two remain incredibly secretive about the problem. She knows it is the crux of their reserved discussion, and if they do not wish to involve her, she will remain silent.

Such thoughts are not synonymous with passiveness. She is aware of the danger and dissemination of paranoia when it comes to the Uchiha loyalty.

Shisui and Itachi are highly intelligent. She has decided to entrust them with whatever decision they make.

For now, she must lessen the fear between clan and village. Normality is key, thus her return to the Uchiha compound in search for Shisui is the only focus in mind.

It is always busy here. The food stalls, markets and bustling of crowds, yet ninety-nine percent of people who congregate here are the Uchihas.

It was never like this. Perhaps their relocation has caused a change in the number of other civilians visiting. But Izumi gets the saddened instinct that their recent oppression has left them distant from the rest of town.

Shisui's place is closest to the riverbank that runs to the heart of Konoha. And though modest, it has an incredible view that overlooks the village countryside.

"Izumi, what are you doing here?"

His voice has etched itself so permanently into her mind, she can hear it from the chatter of nearby crowds.

"Itachi," she says, "I'm looking for Shisui."

He gazes curiously but does not inquire. And when they are momentarily silent, Itachi briefly waves a stack of paper in front of her.

"I need to hand this to Shisui for review," he says unnecessarily.

Izumi finds the comment perplexing. Perhaps she did not expect him to speak about something so tedious and needless. To her, it almost feels as if he needed to provide justification for his presence by way of small talk.

"I'm popular today. Three visitors."

Shisui's voice breaks the fleeting stillness, and for the first time, she is glad for such interruption.

When Itachi hands him the stack of paper, Izumi notices someone hovering conspicuously behind Shisui.

"Oh," he says, and he is tracking Izumi's gaze, "Honoka stopped by to give me some of her amazing sweets," he continues sheepishly.

Izumi's last encounter with Honoka has left a strange sensation that is born out of uncertainty and pity than anything related to her bizarre comments.

The lifeless expression she normally carries is stark as ever, yet there seems to be a delicate expression of lightness she cannot pin down. And only when Shisui formally introduces her that she steps from behind and awkwardly descends several steps of stairs.

"Hello Itachi, I am pleased to make your acquaintance. I look forward to getting to know you and become friends."

Her tone is unusually stoic, polite and monotonous. The deep bow she gives is unquestionably strange and when she turns to Izumi, Honoka repeats the exact same line and action, albeit with Izumi's name.

Without a doubt, Izumi senses a jolt of suspicion and mistrust from Itachi. The gaze he gives Honoka may be transient, but embedded in that time is a host of hostile emotions. Neither Shisui or Itachi seemed aware of Izumi's stalled reaction towards Itachi. Somehow, she gets the strange sensation that only she could detect such minute changes in his emotions.

"What did you need me for, Izumi?" Shisui asks.

She almost forgot her purpose. Her mission to ask Itachi has only recently migrated to the back of her mind. Maybe she is so intent on watching Nanami unsuccessfully ask someone to partner with her at the Council's Mission ceremony that her worries about Itachi is almost non-existent?

With Nanami's constant disapproval of men and her incredibly high standards, there is no way she would find anyone good enough. If that is the case, Izumi would be spared having to ask Itachi.

"I'd like to introduce you to someone," she says.

The short resistant smile she gives is an indicator that she does not wish to discuss the issue here. But Shisui is looking highly curious and Izumi knows how elusive he can be.

When she glances over at Honoka, who is looking slightly dazed and vacant, Shisui appears to catch on.

"I'd like my dinner treat tonight for dodging all your attacks," Izumi whispers, "You promised. We'll have Itachi and a friend of mine there too."

"I've got-"

"No exceptions," she interrupts pointedly, "You've been on way too many missions and it's so hard to catch you already so I am eagerly awaiting my treat."

Her tone borderlines caution, and Shisui's look of disbelief has finally morphed into defeat.

"Fine."

There is a triumphant glint to her expression as she leaves.

Shisui may be superior in intelligence, fighting skills and everything that makes an elite shinobi, but his amicability can be viewed as a weakness.

She won't exploit him too much.


	14. Expression

"Shisui, what do you think of me on first impressions?"

There is an unpleasant sensation that resonates heavily following Itachi and Izumi's departure. Honoka is unable to fathom the discomfiting levels of unease, yet she is sure her words were as genuine as she believes it to be.

"How do you mean?"

Shisui appears sceptical, and it seems she may have asked another socially inappropriate question.

"I feel I spoke the right thing, but I get this strange feeling it did not go so well," she answers softly.

"You had good intentions and they know that," Shisui says kindly.

"Do you think I said too much? About assuming that we may become friends?" She gives a brief pause and inhales deeply, "I did try changing the way I introduce myself but I feel it may have been a bit overwhelming."

She shifts uncomfortably, her stare never wavering from the ground.

"It's a different approach I won't lie, but I do think you came across more opened to being friends."

Shisui's answer is comforting. It always has been, and the more she is in his presence, the more she discovers social interactions not found in the most adept of books. Honoka considers this to her advantage, the knowledge Shisui provides and the skills he embeds into her. But she is also grateful for his friendship.

"Thank you, I will accept that answer," she replies appreciatively.

When Shisui turns for the door, she automatically follows, an act she considers pragmatic given their steady conversation and the absence of a dismissal.

But he gives a sudden look of surprise and awkwardness that expresses nominal emotions in Honoka's mind. And she disregards such feelings whilst persisting with her actions.

"I'll be getting back to report writing," Shisui says firmly, "Considering the promise I made Izumi tonig-"

He stalls abruptly.

"I mean, there's a lot I need to do," he adds hastily.

Still, Honoka's response is minimal. Though she is vaguely aware of his intentions to return to report writing, her rigid belief that an exchange of goodbyes is necessary to part ways is perhaps lending an unsettling ambience to their surroundings. Shisui it seems, appear to be the only one receiving and processing such discomfort.

"I see. Would you like to play a game of chess with me?" Honoka asks, and she stands unnaturally taut, as if awaiting obediently for an order.

Shisui frowns and for a fleeting moment, she almost senses a look of frustration burrowed deep within his watch. But she is always doubtful of her ability to decipher emotions. In order to counteract such inadequacy for social complexities, she has set rules that only permits realistic, logical and rational judgements to persevere.

When Shisui's expression eases, she is unsure of the sudden change in aura and where it may have originated from.

"Honoka, do you not have work?" he asks carefully.

"I have completed my work for today. I decided to arrange my schedule in accordance to your availability. I figured your mission hours do not necessarily align with my work hours, and if friendship is a maintenance thing, I would need to alter the times. I therefore, have completed my daily task in the early hours of the morning so that it may coincide with you being in the village," she replies promptly, almost didactically.

Shisui's frown continues to linger but she detects a component of softening from him.

"Just because I'm back in the village, it does not necessarily mean I am always free," Shisui says.

The revelation sends a surge of disturbances through her. This is the first time she has not accounted for contingencies.

Flustered with disappointment and exasperation, Honoka steps away in painful disgruntlement.

"I apologise, Shisui. I did not account for such events when re-creating my schedule."

And as if she did not want to believe her mistake, her fingers dart to her bag, pulling out a scroll of paper that contains neatly drawn tables detailing daily tasks and programs.

She spends her weekends scheduling, a comforting factor that gives meaning and routine to her life. Yet unaccounted events send a deluge of stress and escalating agitation throughout. The puzzlement, _confusion,_ manifests in the physical form of headaches, shakiness, and the only way to vanquish such uncertainties is to check.

As she begins her perusal, Shisui takes her arm and halts her mid-action.

"Honoka, lets not worry about that for now. I'll account for your contingencies, considering I didn't inform you about my volatile schedule earlier," he says resolutely.

She surveys him closely, as if to catch some sort of ulterior motive. But he continues to give the same offhanded smile she finds difficult to comprehend.

Honoka has never had anyone take accountability for her contingencies before. In normal circumstances, she would protest. Her control over her own situation has undoubtedly been violated, however the signals for such anguish and alarm remains abnormally composed. Perhaps because there is an element of responsibility on Shisui's part?

"Let's go," he continues, and he steps aside so that she can proceed through the door.

Instead of chess, Shisui proposes something different. Having recently memorised the rules of chess, Honoka makes a futile attempt at persuading him from the new game. But Shisui is insistent, and when he explains the benefits it has to her social awareness, she immediately drops the assertive act.

They sit at the corner table where the windows overlook a vast, luscious greenery of misshapen hills and bold yellow-blue symmetrical flowers. The afternoon sun brings a sweet ray of warmth and contentment to their surrounding space.

In the presence of such a beautiful, modest home, together with the pleasantness that comes with friendship, there is small flame that ignites an overwhelming feeling of safety within her.

When Shisui takes a stack of blank paper and begins drawing idly, Honoka watches on with heated intensity. Perhaps not at the remarkable portrait of different faces he is brusquely sketching, but at his concentrating expression that is suffused with insurmountable determination and sincerity. An odd sensation she feels, and for the first time ever, she realises the inquisitiveness that Shisui regularly draws from her.

"Honoka, lets play guess the facial expression game. I apologise for the terribly rough drawing but at least you can make out an expression," Shisui says.

He shows her several drawings of faces with extraordinary realistic expressions, and though hesitant at first, Shisui's amicability is pleasantly tranquillising to her tentative disposition.

"What do you think this expression is?" He asks patiently.

She sees it all the time, perhaps when people are not in her direct presence, but she has memorised it rather than intuitively trying to understand it. Yet Shisui was the very first person to give her that warming impression.

"Happy," she answers vacantly.

The bright smile he gives resonate strongly with wistful memories she cannot recall. The bittersweet emotion confounds her physically, as if there is a jolt of anxiety coursing through and intermeshing with the serenity that is the present.

"You smiled," Shisui says in astonishment.

He blinks rapidly, as if he has never seen anything so phenomenal before.

"I did?" She says dully.

"Smiling makes you more approachable and friendly. Why don't you try it again?"

She does, and this time, Shisui gives her a look of disconcertment.

"Maybe not so forced like that, a bit more natural," he says uncertainly.

She tries again. And again. And again.

"Maybe let it happen naturally," Shisui sighs, "What made you smile before?" he continues curiously.

When he watches her attentively, that same nostalgia floats by in soft waves of gracefulness. The enigmatic feeling is fleeting, gripping to her chest like the fragility of a butterfly before disappearing in a mild rhythm.

"When you smiled, I smiled too," she answers honestly.

She cannot pull the words for a better explanation. It is the first time she is finding it difficult to concoct a basic sentence that translates feelings into a comprehensive sentence.

At her reply, there is a brief moment of impassivity, a wisp of regret that is emanating from Shisui. But Honoka may have imagined it all.

He gives her a small, forceful smile that is unlike the genuineness he has been exuding.

"Let's keep going then, shall we?" He says nonchalantly.


	15. Conclusion

The raw winter winds show no signs of easing. It flails unevenly across trees, sending a tidal wave of young branches into the air before disappearing somewhere in the vast distance. There is a small trail of leaves that have descended to the ground, its body small, dishevelled within the depths of frozen elements.

The burrowed resentment is a mimic of such atrocious weather, and tonight, it has escalated to a burning rage that has been forcefully suppressed in the form of a polite bow.

Uchiha Fugaku had confronted Itachi with the same set of doubt and dissatisfaction. And though Itachi did not speak, the resounding feelings of tension and tentativeness saturated the air.

In the outside world, the biting wind stifles him. The impact is phenomenal, with its mounting ferociousness and piercing sounds. The wails do not deter him from hiking across the wet grounds and towards the dimming glow of the village.

Izumi had earlier pressed for a social gathering, yet the growing concerns of his clan's impending actions had plagued his mind into withdrawal. But following his father's warning, Itachi decided to escape the suffocating atmosphere of discontentment within the walls of home.

A quarter way through, he sees her - Izumi, equally stunned by the heinous elements as it puts up an almighty fight against her resistance. She pushes past, her head down to protect the delicateness of her face whilst her feet stubbornly presses hard against the slippery grounds.

When Itachi nears, she does not notice his presence, and for a split second he thought it may not have been her.

His instinct tells him otherwise. For some inexplicable reason, he is always aware of her presence. It rarely sends a flurry of questions, but this evening, when he attempts to walk beside her and count how long it would take for her to notice, something unexpected surfaces.

He watches her for superficial signs of acknowledgement, but his mind is processing the warmth and serenity of her nearness. Perhaps the negativity from earlier tonight had affected his thoughts?

And only moments later, she suddenly stops in her tracks and sharply glances sideways. For a fleeting moment, there is a look of abject terror in her gaze, as if she is seeing something unpleasant inside him.

But her reverie does not last. Her features lighten and she lets out a reproachful sigh.

"Itachi, don't sneak up on me," she says.

"I wasn't," he answers.

She frowns but lets the comment go with a small smile.

"I thought you wouldn't come out," she says quietly.

The comment reverberates in deep disappointment. His excuses to withdraw from social situations are normally out of necessity than anything remotely to do with his mood. However, his emotions are often dictated by disconcerting events preceding the social event. And it happens in the majority of cases when Izumi is the lead organiser.

"Sorry Izumi, that you have that impression of me," he replies.

She is momentarily silent.

"I know you have your reasons. If it so happens by coincidence that your absence during my social events are not in your control, I can understand that. I guess I don't want it to be anything related to me. I mean, if I did something wrong, I feel like I have, please tell me, I don't want-"

"Izumi," Itachi interjects.

He takes her arm and halts her.

"Please don't draw your own conclusions on this matter. There is nothing against you," he says firmly.

"I'm sorry, Itachi, I just…"

She stops abruptly, as if the truth is lingering and she is forcibly suppressing the urge to speak it.

In the seconds that passes, the sudden quietude is almost deafening. As if the winds, rain and the biting elements have all suddenly paused to reinforce the apprehensiveness of their conversation.

"There is nothing against you," Itachi repeats.

At his comment, she glances sadly at him, a submissive component of despondency grazing her features before she turns and continues walking.

Itachi is unsure whether he had done something to aggravate the situation. However, Izumi does not appear exasperated.

The passive sadness leaves a discomforting sensation he cannot fathom. It goes beyond sympathy for a friend, as if she were family and he has the intense need to protect.

"Izumi," he says.

She halts but does not look at him. That same vacant stare, until he puts his scarf around her shoulders and she suddenly looks to him in astonishment.

"You will catch a cold in your state," he says to her baffled silence.

When she seemingly processes the situation, the blank expression turns marginally content.

"Thank you, Itachi."


	16. Impressionable

"Shisui, thanks for walking me home," she says earnestly.

Her small stature gets her quietly panting for the sake of keeping with his long strides. But Nanami does not speak a single word of complaint, until Shisui's oblivious mind starts honing in on the sounds of breathlessness and the pink flush that is settling complacently across her cheekbones.

"This is terribly rude of me, sorry," Shisui says uncertainly.

He slows his pace until Nanami is walking evenly beside him. And though highly passive, her demeanour is saturated with relief.

"Not at all, it helps to walk off all that food. Speaking of which, I do have to thank you for treating all of us," Nanami answers gratefully, "I know it was only supposed to be for Izumi."

"No that's okay, it wasn't much and besides I've been earning more than spending with all those missions. It's nice to get out once in awhile," Shisui says cheerfully.

They have been walking for the past fifteen minutes, a good hike across the village he rarely visits.

The area is highly affluent, with larger hilltop houses and neatly manicured lawns that overlooks the sparkling village lights.

And though the night has turned increasingly cold, _dark,_ Shisui is secretly glad to be far away from the stressors of home.

"It was also nice meeting you properly tonight," Nanami says ruefully.

She is looking rather meek as her gaze tracks the landing of her footsteps.

"Likewise," he answers.

"You know, I never thought I'd ever get to know you. I mean, I'm surprised a prodigy like you turned out so nice," Nanami says.

Had it not been for her sweet, innocent tone, Shisui would have thought the statement was condescending.

"Heh? I'm not that scary am I?"

"Not that," she pauses, and there is a streak of red that is flittering across her cheeks, "I always have this horrible impression of geniuses, that they tend to misuse their powers and look down upon others. I-It's really refreshing to see otherwise, particularly from someone as talented as you…"

Nanami trails off in lingering embarrassment. She stops abruptly in her tracks, as if the words she spoke were unknowingly expressed and her mind has just processed the action.

"Thank you Nanami, that is really kind of you," Shisui says.

Nanami does not answer, but her face is unusually flushed.

They are silent the entire way, and though it may be a peaceful stillness on Shisui's end, it is less so on Nanami's.

When they reach the front of her resident, she mumbles a brief 'thank you,' before turning away.

"Have a goodnight," he says brightly to her back.

And when he turns to leave, the sound of Nanami's voice is trembling, and oddly shrilled.

"Shisui, would you like to go to the Council's Mission ceremony together?"

He can hear her rapid breathing, the echoing feelings of nervousness, as if they are trapped in a claustrophobic soundproof room and their physicality is merging.

The years of battlefield experience may be a contributing factor to his extreme adeptness at decrypting complex emotions.

"Sure," he smiles.

x

The rain is easily a deterrent for wandering minds. Closing the distance between the outside world and the comfort of shelter is not an unusual goal. But Shisui is different. His mind is acutely attuned to changes in the environment, his level of vigilance unsurpassable.

It comes with the responsibility of being a shinobi, particularly that of a team leader on missions where the risk of serious injuries or death sits at a nauseating sixty percent. The accountability is on him, and thus his mind is vigorously on alert, even on down days.

And tonight, under the piercing chill of winter and the angry forces of unsettling rain, he can still hear the commotion sheltered beneath the roaring sounds of elements.

"Stupid weirdo!"

The yelling, followed by the sounds of heavy crashing is swallowed by a deafening nature. But Shisui's sudden approach speaks otherwise to his level of wariness.

There are three men and one woman, surrounding someone who has fallen to the ground. Her belongings are scattered about, broken glass, books that have disheveled under the wetness of rain, and several leaking substance of something that is trickling from several toppled bottles.

Without any internal questioning, Shisui instinctively knows the victim.

Honoka is sprawled against the ground, her chest pressed flat to the jagged, damp surface of concrete, her hair filled with the essence of something yellow and green.

And in the hands of the shortest man, is a bottle containing a clear liquid that sizzles menacingly on contact with Honoka's clothes. When she turns to face them, there is a bizarre look of emptiness exuding from her gaze. She appears oddly vacuous to the unfolding situation, as if her mind is floating somewhere in another world.

But the sudden contact with the sizzling liquid sends a mild whimper that strongly indicates pain. Yet the vocalisation of such response is surprisingly minimal. Her face returns to its stony expression, and she begins the onerous task of pulling her belongings together as if nothing too extraordinary has happened.

The situation seemingly aggravates her bullies, particularly the woman, who decides to step on a familiar green package when Honoka is frantically reaching for it.

The action evokes a strong response from Honoka, whose face turns increasingly vexed. She does not act on such emotions, but her glazed watch transfixes itself on the package that is being ruthlessly decimated under the woman's shoes.

"Quit already. My sister is through with your annoying presence," the woman shouts, "Or, you can stay and I can continue playing with you for longer," she adds threateningly.

"Hey, quit that won't you?"

Shisui's approaching voice sends a tidal wave of frantic movement amongst the bullies. There is a tense silence that lasts momentarily, then the woman is beckoning the three men towards her.

"We won't bother fighting or arguing against a village prodigy, but this stupid bitch won't always have someone like you around to save her," the woman says.

The short man throws the now empty bottle at Honoka's head before disappearing.

"Honoka! Are you alright?"

Shisui kneels beside her, a fractured look of concern and disbelief across his features.

On Honoka's end, there is minimal unease, as if she is already used to such treatments and Shisui is the one overreacting.

"Shisui, how do you do?" She asks airily.

He stares at her in bafflement, but does not speak as he assists with collecting the strewn items across the grounds.

When he places the final object in her outstretched arms, Honoka momentarily stares at him in mild surprise.

There is a strange expression on her face, as if she only just noticed him and his presence is much more pleasant than she originally anticipated.

"Thank you, Shisui. I appreciate your assistance," she says politely.

Her bow is awkward, a half effort to balance the fragile items whilst exhibiting a bizarre and overly conservative display of gratitude.

"Honoka, lets get you dried up or you will catch a cold. My place is closest, I'll walk you back after, okay?"

Shisui's tone is insistent, though he is unsure whether she can read through such assertiveness.

Surprisingly, she gives a small nod and follows tentatively after him.

x

The rain's strength gains momentum. Its sound is now atrociously deafening, hitting against buildings and concrete grounds with thick, fat droplets before generating large ankle-length puddles in opportunistic places.

Shisui and Honoka make it on time to avoid the worst of elements, their entirety sheltered under the comfort of a warm, inviting house.

"Sorry Honoka, this is the smallest shirt I could find," Shisui says sheepishly, "Either way, it's better than being in drenched clothes."

She takes the shirt hesitantly, her watch grazing the item with immense curiosity and confusion.

"Shisui, thank you for this, but is this a gift?"

He did not expect the crude, peculiar question.

"I wouldn't say it's a gift," he answers slowly, "But you can have it, considering I don't fit into it anymore. It's more of an emergency situation for you right now."

"I see."

"Get change, or you'll really catch a cold."

And Honoka nods before complying with his request.

Perhaps he has some component of trust in people to do things in a socially acceptable way. But he forgets about Honoka's indifference and lack of social appropriateness.

Her top is already raised halfway across her torso, the delicateness of her pale skin reflecting against the illumination of dim lights before Shisui registers the situation.

"Honoka! What are you doing?" He flusters.

As if his body has its own mind, it involuntarily turns his head in the opposite direction, his face searing with escalating embarrassment.

"Getting changed, like you told me to," she answers solemnly.

"I didn't mean to do that right here!" He replies frantically.

He lets out a deep sigh before continuing,

"J-Just go into one of the rooms and change in there."

He points aimlessly somewhere behind him.

"Okay."

Her voice floats flippantly through the atmosphere, as if nothing abnormal is happening.

When Shisui finally hears the sound of a closed door, he lets out a deep exhale of relief.

"She could so easily be exploited and she wouldn't even know it," he mumbles miserably.

Honoka's impressionable personality sits relatively high on the impossible scale, yet Shisui cannot help but feel a twinge of uncertainty - that perhaps there is a component of repressed personality within her that can only be interpreted by instinct.


	17. Accept

Winter almost passes in a blur of splattered rain. The liquid grounds of Konoha recedes into tiny blotches of puddles. The trees regenerate in colour, sprouting a multitude of brightly lit leaves that glow spectacularly against the warmth of sun.

The final days of cold weather is marked by the annual Winter Festival, and today, Izumi's space is occupied by two shinobis who refuse to let a serious matter escape.

"You haven't asked Itachi yet have you?"

Yuki's nagging voice is perhaps ten times worst than Nanami's incessant description of Shisui's incredible skills, intelligence, looks and charm - to name a few.

"For the last time, I will. I just don't know when yet," Izumi mutters irritably.

It is half true. She does not dare venture into the realm of asking someone like Itachi to accompany her. The incredulity of such situation has been gnawing at her for quite some time.

Izumi is unsure as to whether it is Nanami's smugness and disbelieving success for asking Shisui, or that she has fallen into the misfortunate situation of having to invite Itachi, but her certainty that such scenario would not transpire has curiously backfired. She did not account for such outcomes.

"Oh yeah? You have three days before the ceremony. He has also been nominated, so I am wondering if he has asked anyone?" Yuki says pensively.

She glances briefly in Izumi's direction, as if to catch some sort of emotional response for her. But Izumi remains vacant, lost in her own stupidity.

This is the first time she is feeling conflicted. A part of her recoils at the thought of asking such a mind numbing, nervous havoc question, yet another part burns like a submissive ember at the thought of speaking to him.

"How would I know?" Izumi replies glumly.

Yuki's speculation stirs her.

In the three preceding years, Itachi has always been alone. Though he accepted the Council's Mission without so much as a respectful bow, Izumi sees the enigmatic pureness. No words and no partners will guard Itachi's integrity - that is, his mysteriousness will continue to baffle the world and only those closest will have some personal insight into his inner sphere.

The image of Itachi with someone will certainly ruin his mystifying aura. Perhaps Izumi has the unrealistic ideology that he is a perfectly preserve fighter who is inhumanly resistant to emotions?

But such thinking colludes with his position to win. Izumi is forgetting that she is also nominated and there is still a chance for her to take the title.

"Izumi-san? Are you hearing me?"

Nanami's voice filters through and her reverie breaks instantly.

"Sorry?"

Her tone is hard with defence.

"I-I was going to ask…" Nanami trails off quickly, a look of guilt surfacing her face.

But she does not continue and Izumi gets the instinct her tone may have indicated annoyance.

"Sorry," Izumi says, "Just stuck in my own world. What were you going to say?"

Nanami's expression lightens and there is now a look of eagerness flittering her gaze.

"Can you and Yuki help me pick something out together?"

x

Evening settles with a drifting breeze that is unusually warm for a winter's night. She is by the training grounds, watching his shadowy figure manoeuvre the grounds with expert speed and deftness.

Izumi does not sit in her usual site near Itachi's training space. Her muses are heavy with nervousness, and the further she distances herself from him, the lighter she feels. Yet she cannot help but wonder if there is much point to her actions. And when she continues to ruminate, she can finally conclude her feelings. She is scared. Not of Itachi, but of his words.

For a long time, she sits amidst the coolness of night, until time disappears and she is submerged in her own convoluted world. And the guilt surges, as if she has no rights to feel such ways.

There is a nagging sensation that speaks to her. It manifests in the form of gut wrenching anguish, that she should focus on training, perfect her ninja way and strive for strength to protect her village. Yet she is guilty of relishing in attachment and affection.

"Izumi, what are you doing here so late?"

As if attuned to his presence, her mind is already re-directing its attention towards him.

"Itachi, aren't you supposed to be training?"

Her voice is slurred, slightly dazed, and perhaps she is still processing his sudden appearance.

"I finished awhile ago," he says shortly.

He is watching her curiously, and for the briefest of moments, he appears to be fixating his gaze on her neck.

But Izumi is still hovering in stupor. She knows her imagination derides her.

"Oh. I must have spaced out and lost track of time then," she answers stiffly.

Itachi does not speak.

He is still watching her with immense interest, as if there is a pressing matter he needs to know and she is deliberately barring him from the answer.

"I heard you were nominated for the Council's Mission. Congratulations," Itachi says nonchalantly.

"Thank you. Likewise with you, though that comes as no surprise," she answers indifferently.

"Best of luck to both of us then," he says, "We should go together."

Itachi's end comment does not register for several seconds, though it seems her erratic heartbeat has gotten to it before her mind.

"Go together?" She states bluntly.

"We are both nominated."

She stares unblinkingly at the grounds, stunned at the sudden straightforward proposal.

"You want to go together as partners?"

Itachi watches her with fleeting surprise.

"Partners?"

And this time, Izumi is watching him in confusion.

"You want to go as partners?" Itachi continues slowly.

His tone heavily indicates puzzlement over acceptance.

"I…was that not what you meant when you say we should go together?"

"I presumed you would think we just go to the same place together…"

He trails off and for the first time, Izumi senses a tidal wave of awkwardness from him. But comparatively to her, such emotions merely scratches the surface.

Izumi's assumption continues to swirl in a maze of humiliation and embarrassment. She does not dare look at him for fear he may read through her frantic emotions.

"Oh…I'm sorry…I thought you meant…"

Her voice is small, fading to barely above a whisper with accelerating mortification. This was not how she imagined it, in fact, the situation is worst than her anticipation of the worst.

She glances uncertainly at him, absorbing the strange expression on his face, as if he is deep in concentration solving an incredibly complex puzzle.

The silence sits uncomfortably between them, until Itachi speaks.

"Izumi, please don't apologise. I would accept either way."

And when he stands, he reaches his hand for her.

"It's late. Let's go."

Without speaking she accepts his offer in quiet puzzlement. And perhaps not strictly in relation to walking home together, but a passive, unspoken acceptance they go together as partners to the Council Mission's Ceremony.


	18. Reschedule

The last time her concentration deteriorated, the undisputed justification were the late nights completing an urgent compound for Danzo-sama. But in the midst of a very cold winter's day, her mind, on multiple occasions, drifts into a serene world of haziness that makes abstract sense.

The accompanying physical sensation is also different. Instead of the weak, fatigue and sleepy feelings that courses heavily through her body, she is trapped in a funny zone that gets her stomach quenching and her chest beating frantically for unidentifiable reasons.

A severe inconvenience, considering a mountain of work is piling beside her, courtesy of two lazy lab partners who spends more time bullying her than actually working. Yet Honoka remains indifferent. She is used to it, albeit the escalation of bullying is something she is finding difficult to adjust.

Working within the undergrounds of Root's lab, Honoka did not need to interact with the outside world. Her comrades had a shared goal, a purpose, thus they never pry, nor question her existence. And despite the odd few times where speculation floated that she was probably intellectually screwed, it was incredibly peaceful being confined to a dark, dainty lab.

Unfortunately, the hospital environment could not be anymore different.

"...I'm jealous, of course that necklace looks good on you," the older woman with the ruler straight hair says.

"Agreed," the other woman with a shrieking voice concurs, "Although I am sure it would look good on you also," she smirks.

Months in and Honoka never remembers their names. They have never formally introduced themselves, nor do they identify themselves as anything more than lab workers.

Honoka is here on orders, she does not need to involve herself in petty affairs. The exception it seems, is the friend she has recently made. Shisui is one person she remembers, both in name and face. However Izumi and Itachi also make the memory list, despite being only acquaintances.

"I'm excited for the Winter's Festival. It can't come any sooner can it?" the older woman with the ruler straight hair sighs.

"I wonder who is going to win the Council's Mission this year?" the other woman with the shrieking voice ponders.

"No doubt it would be Uchiha Itachi."

"You know, I do wish it would be someone else for once," the woman with the shrieking voice says.

There is a brief pause.

"That person you mean?" the older woman with the ruler straight hair says, and she is nodding towards the tall windows.

Honoka's gaze tracks the comment, her watch latching to the figure walking serenely out the window. His back is facing them, but she instinctively knows the person. And immediately as it appears, the funny stomach churning sensation and tightness in her chest transpires, leaving a discomforting sensation that quickly dissipates into nothingness.

But Shisui is not alone. Moments later, another figure, a girl not much younger than Honoka, is hurriedly keeping pace with his long strides, a look of pure contentment and sizzling energy emanating from her smile.

The bright red hair is all that sticks to Honoka's mind before a surge of inexplicable gloominess surrounds her. The heavy feelings grip in a taut, uncomfortable embrace, pinning her to the ground in one swift movement.

"Uchiha Shisui, seems like he is popular with women, you've got competition Tsubaki," the older woman says.

"Are you serious?" Tsubaki shrieks, "that little brat? She is obviously too young for him."

"Not too young. There are only two Uzumakis under the age of fifteen, she is not one of them," the older woman corrects, "besides, Shisui isn't that old. I believe you are two years his senior?"

"Why would that matter?" Tsubaki mutters.

The older woman does not answer, but Honoka catches a brief grimace lining her thin lips.

For the rest of the hours, Honoka's concentration is permanently impaired. No longer can she focus on the task; mixing up solutions, overheating chemicals and mopping up spillage for the umpteenth time.

Unimpressed, she leaves the laboratory hours after the two women depart. An unusually early retreat for her, considering she would normally stay standing for hours on end to complete her experiment.

In the comfort of her bed that night, she stares restlessly at the ceiling, a swarm of frustration encircling her. She does not understand the situation or the strange feelings associated with seeing her friend. And surely enough, the misery creeps through.

Honoka has always been a problem solver, a strong believer that there is an explanation for everything. Yet she is standing in a conflicting position that is sending a parade of bewilderment through.

Sleep does not befall her easily that night, and when it does, it is marked by discomforting dreams of abandonment and rejection.

For the first time ever, she is afraid of being alone, a stark contrast to the lonely yet content life she had before she met Shisui.

x

"…it can be confusing when you see your friend spending time with other people. You may feel sad, left out or worry that they may not like you…if you feel uncomfortable, try bringing it up with them. Do not be confrontational as this may upset them. Instead, ease into the conversation. You can say things like 'I noticed that we have not been spending time much lately, is everything okay?' Be gentle but not too forward."

There is a momentary pause.

"Be gentle but not too forward? How do they mean by that?" Honoka says.  
She stares blankly at the pages of a heavy book, the words merging to form a jumbling sentence she cannot understand.

But she continues, nevertheless.

"Sadness can sometimes manifest in the form of stomach cramps, fast heart rate and even bowel problems. It is important to understand the underlying cause so a resolution…"

Perhaps the cause of her sadness is the fear of losing a friend? It is true that she has been spending less and less time with Shisui as of late, but a brief look at her schedule tells her she has a fortnightly evening game of chess catch up with him in two days.

For the past week, she has been looking forward to the day, keen to maintain her friendship yet oddly jubilant that she gets to see him.

She likes to attribute this to a case of friendship fever. She has never had a friend before so the excitement of being able to share her stories and interests without any negative repercussions is something she is always looking forward to.

On her way home, she encounters her friend sooner than anticipated. He is walking ahead, alone, and unusually the scene brings a wave of relief and happiness to her surroundings.

"Excuse me, Shisui," she says politely.

"Honoka, it's nice to see you," he answers brightly.

His cheeriness has a way of enhancing the atmosphere and Honoka cannot help but feel slightly lifted within.

"I figured I would come over and greet you, as we are friends and not strangers," Honoka explains.

Shisui gazes interestedly for several seconds before letting out a short laugh.

"No need for an explanation, although I do enjoy hearing your reasoning," he says.

For a moment, she is sure her interactions with Shisui does not correlate with the strange feeling, but the more she converses with him, the stronger the discomforting feeling manifests.

It is by no means a negative sensation. The incongruent state of contentment and discomfort is far more disconcerting to her pragmatic mind than the bizarre feelings themselves.

"I believe we have our fortnightly game in two days," Honoka says.

Shisui's earlier comment has embedded itself into a more panic-stricken part of her mind. Even a socially awkward person like her can see it as a compliment. Her best bet is to steer from exploring that side too deeply. For whatever reason, it seems to spiral those funny sensations.

"Yes, about that," he replies tentatively, "I was going to ask whether we could postpone it?"

His request takes several moments to hit her. And instead of politely accepting, she pushes for an answer.

"May I ask why?"

At her question, Shisui appears taken aback, as if he is being reprimanded.

"The Winter Festival coincides with our catch up. I have agreed to accompany someone to the Council's Mission ceremony," he answers uncertainly.

"That would mean you made a double booking," she hesitates, thinking hard, "Would that perhaps translate that our catch up has moved down from your list of priorities?"

"No, no please don't say things like that, Honoka," Shisui says swiftly.

His tone indicates unease, mimicked by the look of guilt that is now suffusing his expression.

"We do our catch ups more often than there is a Winter Festival. I thought it would be best if we postponed our catch up. It could be earlier or later. I hope you understand," he continues quickly.

Honoka stares attentively at him. She does not understand. Is this perhaps another contingency? No. Shisui knew of their catch up yet he went ahead and scheduled another event over it.

When Honoka remains quiet, Shisui moves closer with a look of genuine regret. But his sudden proximity brings a tidal wave of unexpected emotions she does not anticipate.

Flustered, she falters several steps back, startled at the alienness of such situation.

On Shisui's end, he is still watching her guiltily, acutely aware of his sudden invasion of her personal space.

"Sorry Honoka. I take full responsibility for this. If you'd like I am more than willing to reschedule for a time tomorrow instead."

"An earlier catch up?" She says confoundedly.

"Yes."

An earlier catch up may work.

"Our schedules might not coincide because we did not plan for changes beforehand," she says anxiously.

"Don't worry about that. You tell me your free time and I will make arrangements for it."

Without hesitation, Honoka fumbles for her schedule, a desperate urge to re-write the whole thing as a result of change.

"Only during the day," she says.

"Not a problem. And it does not have to be chess. We can spend the day seeing other things too," Shisui suggests.

Honoka merely nods. She cannot refute his offer of generosity.

"Okay, then I will accept that."


	19. Colour

He is seldom late - three occasions in a lifetime to be exact.

But Honoka is already waiting, looking stoic and vacant as she stares motionlessly into the vast distance. Her punctuality surpasses his early arrival, an element that barely surprises him.

Shisui is getting used to Honoka's unusual perception, but that does not mean he is accustomed to every component of her actions.

"Good afternoon," she says.

Her tone is as monotonous as ever, yet her animated features speak otherwise.

"Good afternoon, you are early," Shisui replies.

Within the depths of her jacket pocket, she draws out a long chain connecting a miniature clock.

"Yes, but we have another five minutes to spare before we start our catch up," she says firmly.

Before Shisui can respond to her peculiar statement, Honoka is already pulling out a stack of paper and showing them to him.

"I have spent the previous night and this morning doing some research on village activities and events. I also asked the neighbours if they know of any events occurring between the hours of twelve noon and three. I made sure to eliminate activities that have passed for the day and ones that would not be available until after three. Therefore, you can see that there are activities happening between the hours of our catch up."

Honoka is speaking fast, pointing wildly at the numerous drawn up events, the time it starts and finishes, and those that started this morning and have leaked into their catch up hours.

"I have concluded these events here may take a little longer. I have also accounted for about thirty minutes of lunch. Ten minutes searching and purchasing food, fifteen minutes eating and five minutes to pack things away and go. That would leave us with two and a half hours. I have already read on the visitor's guide for some of these events and they said expect to spend at least thirty to forty minutes for them. I have also put down the approximation time…"

"Honoka," Shisui says.

"…if we decide to select this event that goes for forty minutes, we won't be able to see this one as it would take too much time and we won't be able to…"

"Honoka," Shisui repeats, and his tone is slightly louder.

"…but if you prefer to see or do two or three events or activities today and focus on that instead of many activities, then perhaps we can select these ones here…"

"Honoka!"

She stops abruptly mid-sentence.

"Shisui, if you could please refrain from interrupting, and leave all questions until the end, then it would be less confusing," Honoka says disapprovingly.

His deep sigh of resignation does not stir her - she continues with the oral disposition as if nothing has happened.

At the conclusion of her speech, Shisui absentmindedly agrees with the proposed schedule. Though Honoka advances beyond what most people would deem normal, Shisui's patience proves remarkably resistant to the bizarre quirk of her personality.

Even the simplicity of visiting a gallery brings forth her unique outlook.

"There are too many artefacts to warrant a forty minute visit. I believe the writer of such recommendations are mistaken," she says contemplatively.

Shisui wonders whether she is truly perusing the gallery or just critiquing the logistics of visit times. He considers both, and it may be the logistics that bothers her, perhaps overriding her ability to freely observe the artefacts.

And unless things are laid out pragmatically, Honoka struggles with improvisations, ' _contingencies_ ' - that is, contingencies that do not exist within the norm.

When they are walking between places, Shisui notices a very specific space between them. Honoka consistently stands an arm's length from him, no matter the situation.

"Honoka, if we don't stay close, we will lose each other in the crowds," Shisui says uncertainly.

"Don't worry I have accounted for that," she answers promptly.

"Huh?"

Honoka glances sceptically at him before speaking.

"We are not on a date," she says simply.

"I know that, but what has that got to do with standing a specific distance from each other?"

"I read that if two people of the opposite gender are walking together, then they may be perceived to be on a date. Therefore I am keeping my distance to prevent any misunderstandings," she explains.

"What kind of archaic book are you reading?" He answers incredulously, "and besides, it isn't always the opposite gender…"

"I retrieved the book from the library."

"Honoka, that isn't how society works. You can stand closer, I think it brings more attention if you are walking in that way."

She pauses in her tracks and he almost hits into the person behind for stopping abruptly.

"Is that so? I do realise the book was published some time ago."

She stares pensively into her own reverie before reluctantly closing the gap between them.

"Is the distance okay now?" She asks.

But Shisui's response is muffled by the sudden sounds of voices. He sees the appearance of three girls followed by marred visions of a very close up visage.

"Fancy seeing you here," Izumi smirks, and she glances suspiciously in Honoka's direction.

"We are on on our fortnightly catch up a day earlier as Shisui has scheduled plans on the day of our supposed catch up," Honoka says brusquely, almost mechanically.

For the briefest of moments, Izumi appears dubious, as if Honoka's sudden well-rehearsed like speech is a mockery of her speculation.

"Shisui, it's good to see you," Nanami says.

Her voice is small and edgy, the lack of eye contact a contributing factor to the sudden tense sensation saturating the air.

"Shisui-san, she is awkward because we made her wear this dress after updating her wardrobe this morning."

His relationship with Yuki extends to a light level of acquaintances, yet she often speaks to him as if they are longtime friends.

On Nanami's end, Yuki's comment has left a trail of red across her cheeks, the eye contact worsening as she stares apprehensively at the ground.

"Nanami, you don't look frumpy in that colour, quit being delicate," Yuki mutters, and she is nudging her ribs with conspicuous strength.

"Don't be embarrassed," Shisui says, "It looks great on you."

He expects placidness from the comment, but it seems the level of Nanami's awkwardness has morphed into mortification. Her face has now painted itself a darker shade of red, much to the chagrin of Yuki.

But Nanami surprises them all when she suddenly speaks in a quiet, timid voice.

"Thank you."

x

For the last hour of their catch up, Honoka is unusually quiet. Though Shisui attempts to make conversation, he finds her short, blunt answers rather disconcerting.

Only when they arrive at her residence does she ask an unexpected question.

"Shisui, do you like the colour green?"

Confounded, he does not immediately process the sudden enquiry, nor the underlying accusatory tone beneath her unvaried voice.

"Uh…it's a nice colour I suppose," he answers sceptically.

"I see."

And when he hesitantly leaves and she is waving goodbye to him in the most robotic of manners, he turns and watches curiously as she sinks deeper into her own inner reality.


	20. Vigilance

"They've been quiet lately. I believe it'll pick up once the Winter Festival is over," Shisui says.

There is a pale greyness to his features, a sombre aura reminiscent of heightened anxiety that was the Second Ninja War.

"I have no qualms about that," Itachi agrees, "Father has not spoken about it for quite some time, and I believe there have been no meetings conducted."

Shisui is looking troubled, as if he knows more than he lets on. But then he softens and the familiar brotherly look he gives is synonymous with assurance.

"Lets play it by ear for now. It's worst if we rouse suspicion by asking or interfering with the clan's progress," Shisui says.

The agreement is portrayed in a discomforting silence and neither speaks for sometime.

"The Winter Festival is tomorrow. I'm keen to see whether you will take the Council's Mission for the fourth year in a row," Shisui grins.

"It would be unfair if I keep taking the title," Itachi answers honestly.

"Always the humble one you are," Shisui replies, "Let's hope it would be awarded to Izumi then."

"Yes, she does deserve to take this year's title."

A momentary silence before Itachi hears a sudden sarcastic smirk coming from Shisui's direction.

"Speaking of Izumi, what's going on between the two of you?"

"I don't understand," Itachi says.

There is not an ounce of dishonesty in doubting the veracity of his statement. But the way Shisui speaks of Izumi is bringing on a strange yet distant feeling of protectiveness he is finding difficult to fathom.

The look on Itachi's face sends a spiralling level of amusing energy towards Shisui, who is now grinning broadly.

"If Izumi does not win tomorrow, be nice to her. She has targeted you as a rival long ago so a defeat would crush her," he pauses, "And also, girls like being appreciated by their admir…er…rivals," he finishes hastily.

Itachi's response is a slight grimace surfacing his smile, an act associated with minute levels of friendly derision.

"You seem knowledgeable and experienced about these things," he says quietly.

At the comment, Shisui's face turns a faint shade of red.

"Well, I am older than you," he replies sheepishly.

"That isn't necessarily an accurate depiction of someone's level of experience."

Shisui laughs.

"You are brazen today. Perhaps that has something to do with the fact we are not training?"

They both grin in silence. Another minute of quietude before Itachi speaks again, this time with a steely edge.

"Shisui, this Honoka woman, please be wary."

He expects mild protest at the very least, but Shisui does not stir at his comment. The stillness persists with an element of adversity, but Shisui does not answer for some time.

"What are your speculations?" He asks ruefully.

His tone is surprisingly harsh for the softness its volume is projecting.

"She is from Root," Itachi states frankly.

Shisui turns to him in puzzlement, a look of genuine interest at the sudden revelation.

"I see."

But he appears unconvinced despite the flicker of apprehension that is lining his watch.

"I won't question your private life, but Honoka's association with Root warrants a higher level of vigilance. Considering Danzo's hostility towards the clan, it feels too convenient for Honoka to have met you."

There is a deep sigh of acceptance on Shisui's end before he speaks with forced reassurance.

"Itachi, don't worry I'll handle it, and besides, I was the one who offered my friendship to her, so I don't think there are any suspicions relating to Honoka's sudden appearance."

The comment is implausible to his speculative mind. Though Honoka herself may not present with ill-intentions, her association with Root is undoubtedly a cause for concern.

But Itachi trusts Shisui. He won't refute the assuring statement, yet a small part remain assertive in maintaining a look out from a fair distance.

Even if Shisui disagrees with such ideas, Itachi won't hesitate to keep information secret if it meant protecting the clan and the village peacefully.


	21. Sympathy

The imminent commencement of Konoha's annual Winter's Festival spreads joviality like a contagion. The atmosphere is rife with apprehensive excitement, whether it be partaking in events or immersing oneself in the ambience of a celebratory spirit.

On Izumi's end, she is spending an unusually bright winter's day with Nanami and Yuki, who have incessantly guilt tripped her into parting with training for the onerous task of assisting Nanami with purchasing a new dress for this evening.

"You should be thankful my mission has been cancelled and I have the decency to drag you away from that training field once in awhile," Yuki says reproachfully, and she is prising an ugly brown coloured dress from Nanami's curious hands.

"Yes, extremely," Izumi mutters.

Another half-hearted truth. Her sarcasm does not filter through with such a soften tone, but there is a small part that is secretly thankful for being pulled from the demanding stressors of her own perfectionism.

"It's nice to have girl friends who can give advice on all this," Nanami says cheerfully.

She glances gratefully in Yuki and Izumi's direction before drawing a green-blue coloured dress from the rack behind.

"You know, I can only wear this for a short period of time. Most of the time we'd be in yukatas," Nanami frowns.

"The Council's Mission ceremony is most important so that dress would have served its purpose," Yuki says assertively, "and besides, I think he would like that colour," she finishes lowly.

Izumi misses the growing red streak that is now transpiring heavily across Nanami's cheeks. Perhaps a strong reminder of Shisui's comment several days earlier.

Instead, Izumi's attention arrests on a shadowy figure behind three clothing racks. And it takes several seconds before she registers the person.

Honoka's brown hair is apparent from the mirror's reflection where she is crouching steadily on one very bent knee. But she does not appear to realise that Izumi is watching inquisitively from afar.

Without notifying Yuki and Nanami, Izumi remains remarkably still, gazing at Honoka as she sidles awkwardly towards them, her eyes transfixed on the pieces of clothing hanging from Nanami's arm.

"…isn't that right, Izumi-san?"

Nanami's voice floats through, disconnecting her entrancing moment with Honoka.

"Right," she answers automatically.

Her tone appears to satisfy Nanami, because she turns and peruses between the items in her arm.

On Yuki's end, her demeanour has turned unusually still, watching intently in Honoka's direction with something that looks like an underlying contemptuous smirk.

"Nanami, a stink is following us," Yuki glowers.

At her words, Nanami glances sharply in Honoka's direction, but subtle enough so that it could be mistaken as a neck stretch.

Izumi, looking thoroughly confused, is now staring anxiously between her two friends, the agitated silence a strengthening factor to the vexation growing on their faces.

Before the questions flow, Yuki suddenly speaks in an oddly sweet, friendly voice.

"Nanami, he would like this on you. I mean you know how it is when you wore this kind of colour?"

From the rack, Yuki takes a putrid green-brown coloured dress that befits an elderly lady more than a girl of fifteen.

And hesitantly, Nanami nods, as if unsure of Yuki's sudden facade.

Still, Izumi remains in baffled silence, the confusion of such scenario is keeping her thoughts and questions suppressed.

"Anyways, you've gotten enough here already, you won't need this, let's go shall we?" Yuki continues swiftly, and she roughly puts the dress back before taking Nanami by the wrist, an indicator that Izumi too should follow suit.

x

"What happened?"

Izumi's spoken puzzlement follows through the doors and out into the biting chill of winter.

"I'll have you know that pesky girl does not understand the basic concept of respect and anything that pertains to a mind your own business matter," Yuki answers pointedly from somewhere up front.

Only when a reasonable distance is placed between them and the shop does Yuki turn around with a severe look across her features.

"Izumi, you weren't there and Nanami is too nice to repeat such atrocity." She breathes deeply as a mechanism of anger management. "That girl decided this morning that Nanami is not entitled to be friends with Shisui in any shape or form," she pauses before gesturing her fist angrily, "Nanami was only having an innocent conversation with him when that girl comes out of nowhere after Shisui left and said, and very bluntly so I better give her some credit for that audaciousness, 'Were you two on a date?' Then…"

At this point of Yuki's explanation, Nanami has gone unusually pale, as if she has left the realm of embarrassment and is now hovering somewhere between humiliation and mortification.

"…it was obviously a no since Nanami only bumped into him on her morning walk. Then that girl just stands there and lectures her about how she is being inappropriate by standing too close to Shisui when they are alone and not on a date. Luckily I was still within hearing distance and gave her a piece of my mind. Little rut. There is something funny about her, socially impaired or just inept and rude…"

Yuki's rant continues for some time after, an element Izumi decides to tune out when the spillage of information becomes more of a circular tirade than anything that constitutes new information.

"I know she is friends with Shisui," Nanami says timidly as Yuki breaks from her rave.

"What has that got to do with anything? You are free to be friends with him just as much as she is," Yuki snaps pointedly, "and besides, what kind of stupid explanation does 'two people of the opposite gender can be considered as going on a date, so keeping a good distance would prevent misunderstandings,' come from?"

"Shisui told me she doesn't know anyone else so maybe that's why?" Izumi suggests.

Yuki lets out a short derisive snort that indicates a disregard towards Izumi's comment.

"Not surprised if she has no friends. Shisui is way too nice for his own good. She is probably worried Nanami is stealing him away and she would be left friendless. Serves her right. And stalking us into the shops? What is she playing at?" Yuki inhales exasperatedly before morphing her features into a condescending grimace, "If she was doing what I thought she was doing, then my plan worked out well enough."

In the midst of her sentence, Yuki has gone bizarrely absent, as if she is replaying and witnessing an event that is being plotted subconsciously in her mind.

Izumi has never seen this side of Yuki before, and she wonders whether Honoka's action is a reminder of something Yuki experienced in the past or whether she just genuinely finds Honoka's behaviour offensive.

When Izumi and Nanami exchange significant glances, they decide to keep quiet for fear of riling the already heightened atmosphere.

They walk home without speaking a word, Nanami and Yuki appear lost in their own thoughts whilst Izumi stares vacantly out into the distance.

Though she feels a twinge of sympathy towards Honoka, there is another ubiquitous emotion that is bearing heavily against her chest. Izumi is unsure of what it is, but she gets the strange feeling that it has something to do with the Council's Mission Ceremony tonight.


	22. Security

In the midst of high spirited sounds and exhilarating music, Itachi sidesteps the thrill and awaits her arrival by the training grounds.

Punctual as he always is, Izumi's recognised tardiness is never a deterrent for mimicking her behaviour. Regardless of her anticipated arrival fifteen minutes later, Itachi is by the meeting point at always the exact point of their agreed time.

At her presence, they exchange a brief greeting before walking towards the much anticipated Council's Mission ceremony.

Neither speak from then on, as if they prefer the transient stillness prior to facing the crowded village streets.

But it may not be counterproductive to the lingering emotional upheaval. Last night's discussion with Shisui has manifested in the form of physical and mental numbness. And despite the inviting quietude, his mind hangs ever so delicately on a string of disorder. He cannot help but latch to the dreaded feelings of uncertainty, that is, of his father's questionable plans.

The burden to pick a side weighs heavily, yet the expectation that he stand by his clan's decision warrants a deeper level of dissatisfaction. And though his muse is suspended somewhere in the realm of unease, part of his mind replays the guilty emotions - his promise to Shisui that he step down from those ubiquitous concerns and focus on the clan later.

"Itachi."

In normal circumstances where his mind is adrift, it may take several calls to break his reverie. Yet he hears her soft voice saunter through as if she is already standing beside him in the darkness of his thoughts.

When he turns to her comment, Izumi's watch is fearful. To the outside world, her expression is interpreted as concern, but Itachi has an inexplicable ability to discern her underlying emotions.

"You seem troubled," she says quietly.

He does not speak because his expression translated perfectly. Izumi does not question his silence, as if she understands his non-verbal answer.

When the feelings of unease circulates and rises, Izumi takes his hand and barricades the escalating discomfort. His response is remarkably minimal, with the exception of his hand, which has automatically enclosed itself over Izumi's.

Perhaps he is naive to such situations, but the innocence of their actions is only something they could fully comprehend.

The disturbing emotions dissipate, and together with the raging thoughts, they melt away into the depths of his mind.

It may be the security he gets from Izumi, or the comfort of her proximity, but either way, he is eternally grateful for the brief respite.

x

Shisui's punctuality surpasses his by a mile. He is already waiting for them by the gates of Konoha's Athenaeum where the Council's Mission ceremony takes place.

And before Izumi and Itachi can break their hand contact, Shisui is already processing their act with a peculiar expression that spells a whole lifetime of mockery.

"Early as always," Izumi says.

Her face is unusually flushed and Itachi wonders whether it has anything to do with the sarcastic look Shisui is giving them.

"Hello there…" Shisui replies slowly.

He surveys Itachi closely before deciding that tonight may not be a good time for some friendly derision.

"I'm waiting for Nanami, so I'm surprised you're somewhat on time today, Izumi," he says impressively.

"Question my tardiness one more time," she snaps warningly, as Shisui raises his hands in resignation.

"Nanami is probably on par with Izumi when it comes to lateness-" Itachi agrees.

"Hey! Whose side are you on?" Izumi interjects grumpily.

"Shisui's."

His blunt, short answer earns him an approving grin from Shisui and a reproachful frown from Izumi. Regardless, he senses Izumi's underlying enjoyment and comfort in both their presence and friendly banter.

"Excuse me Shisui, Izumi and Itachi, may I join in on the conversation?"

The familiar vacant tone is strong, and when Itachi faces Honoka, he is unsure whether it is her unusually lively face or her interesting choice of dress that baffles him.

"Hi Honoka," Shisui says cheerfully as Izumi stares inquisitively at her.

To those who exist within the spectrum of 'normality', Honoka is indisputably bland.

Everything from her looks to the way she dresses and her monotonous interactions with the world is saturated in dullness.

However, the dress she is wearing tonight is different from her usual boring brown. It is seemingly three sizes too big for her, paired with its unappealing putrid green-brown colour and a style that suits the elderly woman next door, he wonders of its origin and intention. Itachi does not venture into the sphere of what is considered appealing, but someone like him can distinguish between appropriate and inappropriate.

Yet unsurprisingly, Honoka is looking bizarrely proud.

On Izumi's end, he notices a mixture of incongruent emotions. The expression borderlines disconcertment, guilt and perhaps amusement, as if she is responsible for an embarrassing situation and is refusing to acknowledge it.

"Shisui would you like to-"

Honoka's sentence is cut short by the arrival of two people.

"Izumi!"

Yuki edges herself in between Itachi and Izumi, an oddly triumphant look on her face as she glances over at Honoka.

"Sorry to keep you waiting, Shisui."

Nanami's voice is tentative as she speaks openly to the group without glancing at Shisui.

"We should go, the hall is filling up," Yuki says, "And you two…" she gestures at Itachi and Izumi, "…you need to be seated at the front row as nominees. Everyone have their tickets?"

Then Yuki is dragging them away, her arm moving forwards and pushing both Shisui and Nanami together towards the gate.

"Time to go!" She says loudly.

"Uh…sorry Honoka, speak soon," Shisui says uncertainly as he is brusquely shoved through the gates.

Puzzled, Itachi and Izumi glance behind, watching Honoka as she stares confoundedly at their sudden departure, highly unaware that she is perhaps not welcomed in the group's presence.


	23. Futile

Uchiha Itachi takes the Council's Mission award for the fourth year in a row. Neither the sound of his spoken name nor the absence of Izumi's name stirs her mind.

He won it fair.

She does not allow the disappointment to pool, yet a dangerous level of sadness she cannot fathom is sweeping and plunging her deep in its trance.

Then, Itachi's voice pulls her from its depth, a painful blend that erupts with the deafening sounds of applause.

"Izumi, I apologise."

He takes his seat beside her after humbly accepting the award, an action she genuinely appreciates.

"What for?" She states disbelievingly, "you won it fair and square."

At her comment, Itachi turns and faces her squarely, a move that gets her startled at the unexpected proximity.

"Izumi, I believe you would be an invaluable comrade to have on the Council's Mission."

He raises his hand in what appears to be a tentative handshake.

Baffled, Izumi stares intently at him, unaware of the sudden whistling sounds and teasing laughter that is swirling around them.

"Is it not supposed to be for one? You would end up with only half the amount-"

"The completion of a mission for the sake and safety of the village is pivotal," he interrupts, "Money comes second, and the mission would not be completed satisfactorily without a comrade," he hesitates momentarily, as if reluctant to speak the final sentence, "I can vouch for that, having been on it three times," he finishes quickly.

Izumi lets the comment sink, perhaps a frantic attempt to scan her mind for any underlying motives.

A small part of her is uncertain of his intentions, yet a significant portion is focused on Itachi's assessment of her as an invaluable comrade.

Inundated with embarrassment, she unsuccessfully suppresses a series of red streaks before mumbling a few incomprehensible words.

On Itachi's end, he seems not to notice.

"You don't have to make a decision now," he says evenly.

It may be the comment with its underlying meaning, but Izumi knows with certainty that winning the Council's Mission is not the end goal.

Deep down, and without the inclination to acknowledge it, the goal is, and will always be, Itachi's approval.

x

Not until Izumi, Nanami and Yuki have changed into their yukatas do they reunite with Itachi and Shisui by the village markets.

Nanami, who is having a tentative conversation with Shisui, is also fruitlessly fending off a forceful Yuki. Only when she slips and falls against his arm does Yuki decide to stop with the accidental 'pushing.'

Meanwhile, Itachi is occupied with the festival's agenda, given enthusiastically by Shisui and assigned the task of locating group entertainment. But by the time he makes his mind, Yuki suggests dinner.

Alone by a long table of their chosen restaurant is Honoka, who is staring vacantly into the distance as if her current presence is by accident.

Shisui, very much to Yuki's dismay, is already approaching and waving cheerfully at her.

"Shisui, how do you do?" She says monotonously.

"Good! Can we join you?" He answers eagerly.

And it may be his mirthfulness, but Nanami is looking unusually sullen and timid.

Shisui gestures for the rest of them before seating himself beside Honoka. Izumi and Itachi take their seats opposite, with Yuki whispering and signalling for Nanami to sit on Shisui's other side whilst she takes her place beside her.

The atmosphere may be suffused with a tense level of animosity and awkwardness, but the group does not reinforce such negativity. Shisui also seems to be the only one oblivious to the cynical air.

"Say, we need to go back after dinner for the ceremony celebration," Yuki says suddenly.

And instantly, Izumi gets where Yuki is directing.

 _Yuki it's only been ten minutes and you're already making plans to rid of Honoka?_

Nanami stares at her bowl of food with more interest than usual whilst Itachi and Shisui watch inquisitively in Yuki's direction.

Honoka, however, is on a separate book altogether.

"Shisui, would you like to play a game of chess?" She asks blankly.

Her discomforting stare begins at Shisui, briefly hanging on to Itachi and Izumi, gliding past Yuki and Nanami before ending back at Shisui.

"Huh?"

The word comes out as an incredulous grunt from Yuki's end as Shisui gazes sceptically at Honoka.

Surprisingly, and very much to the vexation of Yuki, Honoka turns to her with almost a patronising vibe, albeit her expression is remarkably impassive.

"You did not ask Shisui directly, therefore, I would assume he is free," she says as Yuki glares disdainfully.

"I said we should go back after dinner for the ceremony celebration," Yuki snaps.

"You did not define who 'we' is. Your suggestion was generalised, and therefore I have decided to offer a suggestion to Shisui, who I have clarified clearly."

The bitter silence stretches on, until Honoka decides to speak again.

"Shisui, would you like to play a game of chess with me?"

"No, he does not!" Yuki interjects irately.

"I need an answer from Shisui himself-"

"You're really starting to piss me off-"

"Hey, hey!" Shisui interrupts, "Let's not argue okay?"

He raises his hands as a signal for quietude.

"Shisui, was that considered an argument?" Honoka asks interestedly.

"Yes, so please let's not argue here," he answers quickly.

"I think you must be mistaken. An argument is a quarrel resulting from diverging opinions, usually accompanied by anger."

She speaks slowly, explaining as if she is standing in a classroom lecturing clueless students.

"That was a quarrel, stupid!" Yuki says loudly.

"A quarrel is when two parties are emotionally angry. Judging by the look on your face," she pauses, and with disbelieving silence, Honoka rummages through her bag and pulls out a small book with numerous colourful tabs, "I believe it resembles displeasure and annoyance. I see your pupils have dilated and your eyebrows have furrowed. However, I cannot feel any displeasure or annoyance, therefore I am not angry. If I am not angry, then we cannot be in a quarrel or argument."

Izumi expected a furious outburst on Yuki's end, however, she leans back against the chair and lets out a string of hysterical laughter.

"She's even more loopy than I thought," Yuki shouts gleefully as Shisui sends her a disapproving frown.

Itachi, who was watching the scene unfold, is now focused on his newly arrived plate of dangos, completely indifferent and disengaged from the commotion.

"Let's talk about this later, okay?" Shisui says to Honoka.

And for the next twenty minutes, conversation is barely audible, with the exception of small talk occurring between Shisui and Nanami.

Only when Nanami suddenly stands does the discomforting atmosphere break.

"I need to go for a walk. Shisui, are you able to accompany me?" She asks politely.

Shisui, kind as he is, does not appear to understand the insinuating motive behind Nanami's question.

"Sure," he replies.

When he stands to follow, Honoka attempts the same, except Yuki is too quick for her.

"Not so fast, you weren't invited. Stay out of it," she says gratingly, and her hand is viciously gripping the back of Honoka's blouse.

Confused, Honoka stares after Shisui and Nanami, then over at Yuki before realising that further attempts may not be ideal.

For the first time ever, Izumi notices a line of despondency across Honoka's features. It may be brief, but she is unsure of its meaning and where it may have originated.

Regardless, she is relieved the situation did not escalate under the fuming temper that is Yuki.

Again, there is a flutter of sympathy towards Honoka, that her social ineptness is putting her in endless compromising situations. Yet Izumi's relationship with Honoka is far too trivial for any level of deep understanding. If anything, she wishes to remain neutral for the sake of Nanami's happiness.


	24. Depart

Out in the chills of winter, the air is saturated with a strong scent of festivity that repels the bitter elements. Though biting, it does not dissuade the jovial crowds from partaking in the excitement of community spirits.

Yet on a different spectrum, she is alone again, not out of deliberation, but involuntarily forced to the side without a reason.

Shisui and Nanami did not return, and for reasons beyond her understanding, the gloominess resettles at the thought of their 'disappearance.'

The rest of the group, on Yuki's persistence, have all returned to the Council's Mission celebration. But Honoka does not have a valid ticket for entry. Her entire savings for this month has gone into the very expensive dress she is wearing. And uncomfortable as it is on her, she resists the incessant chafing that is angrily pressing against her sensitive skin.

Honoka is not use to the feelings of uncomfortable clothing. Never has she thought to remove herself from the comfort of her basic wardrobe to something so extravagant.

But in recent weeks, she found herself staring obsessively between the mirror and her wardrobe, desperately seeking an answer to her dressing conundrum.

Unsure of its origin, she was able to narrow it down to a manifestation of discomfort and resentment. These feelings, she found, exacerbated when Shisui gave a praising comment to Nanami's dress earlier in the week. Honoka does not understand why something so mediocre as a dress would warrant such a pleasing remark.

Perhaps it was attributed to her lack of social understanding, but she discovered the wardrobe fussing escalated post the incident.

Confused and unsure of her actions, Honoka spent numerous hours in the library, scanning through copious amounts of books, only to hit dead ends in understanding these newly spawned emotions and actions.

And through trial and error, she thought purchasing a similar dress to Nanami's would resolve the inner turmoil.

But the beginning was difficult. She wandered through the village stores, watching with increasing interest as people patrolled around the aisles of clothes, their eyes roughly scanning the shelves and racks before walking away.

As if they knew exactly what they wanted, or what they were looking for, Honoka struggled. She spent hours staring haphazardly at the clothes, watching women and girls - mothers and daughters, girls with their friends - whisper, laugh and provided opinions and swapping ideas.

A part of Honoka wished she had assistance with such matters. Only when she decided to resign from her search did the sounds of familiar voices caught her attention.

She did not mean to pry, but Izumi and two other girls were discussing wardrobe options. Absent-mindedly, Honoka chose the dress Yuki and Nanami left behind. Regardless of what they selected, it would be better than what she would have picked. And with unacknowledged hope, Honoka remained wishful that Shisui would give her the same comment he did with Nanami.

Fast-forward a day and a half later and she has not heard him speak praise.

Her mind is now dazed and troubled by his absence, yet she follows her instincts to the gates of Konoha's Atheneum. And just like that, she sees Shisui.

His watch is oddly transfixed on a rapidly speaking Nanami, who is staring intently back at him as if the world around her has ceased to exist.

Honoka's gaze does not falter. It lingers uneasily on the hand that Nanami has wrapped around Shisui's arm.

For the first time, there is a surge of animosity that transpires, followed by a strong pressing feeling that is wrenching brutally against her chest.

Bewildered, Honoka steps back and disappears from the crowd, the painful sensation hovers ever so heavily against her as she makes for her apartment and through to her room.

Quiet and lonely, she sits there in dead silence, her mind disengaging from the babble of conversations and music from the outside.

Afraid of these feelings, she does not dare move from her position. Even after the unconscious world settles, her body remains anxious, wary of intruders that only exist within her mind.


	25. Unsure

Their catch up does not occur for several weeks into the first month of Spring.

Shisui, on last minute orders from the Hokage, was tasked with leading a group of jounins on an urgent mission. Only after two weeks does he finally return, reality seeping through with a combination of exhaustion and mounting reports.

The past week keeps him busy, his unusual anti-social nature sparks even disconcertment from Itachi. But the level of understanding they share is undoubtedly unsurpassable. Itachi never questions, only being present when he deems it necessary.

Tonight, by the warmth of the fireplace, Shisui is engaged in another ambitious game of chess. Except he senses a slight change in his competitor. Honoka is unexpectedly reserved, from the minute speaking to the very reclusive body language she displays.

Inquisitive yet respectful, Shisui refrains from prying, only asking questions that cannot be interpreted as offensive. However, Honoka's perception of what constitutes as offensive differs vastly from the 'norm.'

"Honoka, you are very quiet today, is everything okay?" He asks casually.

She takes awhile before glancing cynically from the chess board, as if the question intruded her thinking.

"Must one not be quiet when one is thinking of the next move?" She asks vacuously.

Her expression is incredibly deadpan, yet Shisui senses a trace of melancholy from beneath her gaze.

"Not in relation to the game. You are quiet in general," he replies uncertainly.

She does not return his comment until her eyes have transfixed itself back on the chess board.

"How do you measure the average amount of speaking to determine whether they are currently an outlier?"

Her question may not differ in any shape or form, yet the way she conveys is tragically haughty.

"I don't need to. I sense you are not your usual self."

At the comment, she returns her watch to him, perhaps surprised at his unexpected answer.

"Is that so?"

Her brows suddenly furrows, a strong indicator that she is deep in concentration.

And when she finally decides to speak, there is a bizarre look of what appears to be curiosity intermixed with agitation lining her demeanour.

"If you must know what the latest conundrum to my thought patterns are, I have been trying to work out the meaning of newly spawned feelings," she explains.

There is logic in every ounce of that sentence, that her attempts at comprehending feelings is just another systematic puzzle she is working to decrypt.

"Newly spawned feelings?" Shisui repeats, "What does that entail?"

"A painful sensation," she answers vaguely, and her hand is pressing against her chest.

Concerned, Shisui moves closer to observe, but Honoka startles at his sudden proximity. She backs from him with remarkable speed, her face drained of all colour brought on by the very fearful look she is giving him.

"Honoka!"

"Fine, I'm f-fine," she splutters breathlessly.

Unsure whether his presence is reinforcing her restlessness, Shisui decides to withdraw behind the table.

"Do you need to go to the hospital?" He asks anxiously.

Honoka shakes her head, her fingers still splayed shakily against her chest.

"You don't know what's causing it?"

"I am unsure," she peers peculiarly at him before staring intently at the ground.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" He asks tentatively.

"I am unsure," she repeats, "but perhaps resume our game?"

In response, Shisui stares at her in puzzlement. His inability to fathom her behaviour and accept her personality does not clear his anxiety of her sudden diminishing health. Regardless, he does not object to her atypical suggestion.

They do not speak for a long time. The game leaves their minds floating with concentration, neither noticing the sounds of receding flames that is crackling lightly against the ash filled firewood.

At Honoka's next turn, she finally looks up from the board, her features a strong representation of an inexplicable portrait painting. She is momentarily quiet as she gazes expressionlessly at Shisui, who is watching her with increasing discomfort.

"When my concentration broke, the feeling came back," she says.

Her tone is oddly harsh as she presses a hand against her chest.

"What's the pain like?" Shisui asks.

"A pressing pain," she answers, "I don't know how to remove it."

"I wish I could help," he replies sadly.

A situation he strongly dislikes, the inability to help someone when they need it most.

"I think…" she trails off before shuffling closer to him.

Surprised, he sits relatively still, hoping minimal movement would prevent any further anxiety-induced fear on Honoka's end.

Then, she is reaching for his arm before enclosing her hand around it.

"Shisui, what do you feel?"

He does not answer. The action is already baffling, let alone the bizarre question.

"What do you feel?" She repeats firmly.

"Uhh…pressure?"

Without responding to his statement, she loosens her grip on him before using the tip of her index finger to prod certain parts of his forearm and chest.

Bewildered yet curious, he continues the stillness and the absence of speech whilst surveying her closely.

"Can you do the same to me now?" She asks nonchalantly as if her request is anything but abnormal.

"What?"

"My chest pains don't hurt as much anymore, maybe if you do the same to me then it might go away completely."

When he does not stir, she hesitantly takes his hand and places it on her arm, wrapping his fingers around it like she did with him earlier.

"I am unsure of what you're trying to do, Honoka," Shisui says confoundedly.

"I feel better, and I am getting a different feeling in its place," she presses a hand to her chest as verification, "it's a strangely addictive feeling."

When he withdraws his hand, she looks to him sadly, albeit a trace of happiness lingers ever so delicately beneath her features.

"I still don't know what it is," she utters dejectedly.

Then, she is shuffling forwards, greatly closing the distance between them as her curious face hovers close.


	26. Affection

Not long after the Council's Mission announcement, Itachi had briefly informed Izumi of an upcoming mission. Though it does not involve escorting an important person across countries, it nevertheless requires a high level of vigilance and tactic.

In two weeks time, they are to deliver a special message to a small village that borders the Fire and Wind countries. The contents remain unknown, sealed within a powerful scroll by the Hokage himself. Upon delivering the scroll, they are to follow specific instructions given to them by the message recipient. A report is to follow thereafter on return to the village.

The sum of money, in exchange for the successful completion of the mission, is more than ten times that of what a Chunnin would make during a B-rank mission. And with Itachi's generosity, or perhaps direct approval, Izumi takes a share.

But she has never been on a mission with Itachi before, let alone just the two of them, and frankly the prize is perhaps the uncertainty of what would happen when the two are alone together for several days. It does not stir her the slightest, considering the surrealistic feeling of her current situation.

Itachi ensures that she is briefed on the technicality of the mission, and because they are splitting the award, the responsibility sits at fifty-fifty. There will be no leader, just two village comrades working together to complete the assigned task.

"Izumi, meet me at the village gates tonight. It's better if we leave in the evening, considering the direction we are heading," Itachi says.

"You mean increasing enemy presence?" She answers curiously.

"Yes, tensions are mounting between villages," he briefly glances past her shoulder before returning his gaze with perturbation, "Izumi, you are going to the meeting are you not?"

He is looking grave, a hint of forcefulness she cannot fathom.

"You are going are you?" She replies quickly.

Her evasive answer accelerates the solemn expression that is now deeply embedded across his features.

"I have other errands. It'll raise suspicions if you don't go."

"How is that? The son of the Uchiha leader is avoiding a crucial meeting-"

Her sentence is muffled by the rigid hand that is clapped painfully over her mouth.

"Lower your voice when you speak of these matters," Itachi whispers, "Don't you worry about me, you go on ahead. Shisui will be there. The worst thing you can do is rouse suspicion."

She does not understand his explanation, but she reluctantly nods so he can release her.

Without a spoken word, Itachi gestures for her to leave, a point which he disappears with remarkable speed and stealth.

She won't attempt to pry in his business, but that does not stop the tumultuous feeling of discomfort that is ransacking her stomach. Though she has made the temporary decision to drop Itachi's changing demeanour, she will not stand by and watch him suffer in silence. Whether he recognises his own feelings or not, Izumi sees the gnawing pain that is escalating on his inside.

x

Even amongst the congested streets of a vibrant market, Honoka stands out. It may be the episodic acquaintance she gets from seeing her at times, but Izumi feels a radiating level of oddity that hangs heavy in Honoka's surrounding presence.

Though she is sitting by the park bench with no more than a mere glance from a small percentage of passersby, Honoka's blandness beckons her attention. For a brief moment, Izumi observes from afar, slightly troubled at the inexplicable fascination with a boring, monotonous girl who's face mimics that of those tedious clothes.

But she tracks Honoka's gaze towards two familiar people - Shisui and Nanami. Closed to the world around them, they converse animatedly from afar, Nanami's unwavering gaze focused on Shisui as he speaks.

Even to Izumi's naive eyes, the distance between them is unusually close. And surveying Shisui closely, he gives Nanami a smile she has never seen before. In the many years Izumi has known him, Shisui rarely shows a differing side to his usual kindness. His treatment of everyone in that same polite manner even sends speculation amongst some that he may be difficult to provoke or truly please.

For Shisui's current expression, it is not forced, rather, a smile that perhaps conceal affection.

On Honoka's end, there is a strange manifestation of what appears to be resentment embedded between her frown. Almost like tinted glass, Izumi barely makes out the despondent emotions that is sitting comfortably beneath the surface of her skin.

Perhaps Honoka's monotonous personality plays to her advantage? Her poker face rarely gives away her emotional state - a feature many people would never hope to obtain.

When Honoka stands abruptly, she swivels in the opposite direction, glancing warily to the sides with that same anguish face and clutching vigorously at her chest.

And when Izumi decides to leave, coincidentally in the same direction as Honoka, she swiftly halts at the disbelieving sight before her.

Honoka steps into the gaps of a dark alleyway and disappears behind a grand sliding door.

Without further speculation, Izumi backs away in pity. For someone as stoic as Honoka, Izumi is surprised at this sudden discovery. She may have her reasons, but Izumi doubts Honoka is unaware of what she is doing.

For all it is worth, Izumi's level of pity for her escalates, yet a nagging side disproves of such thoughts. But she will ensure one thing. She won't speak of where Honoka has gone.


	27. Confess

The unmarred heavens are gently congruent with the pace of Konoha's peaceful surroundings. Mid Spring brings an array of blooming flowers that colours the village with boundless displays of brightness.

But the perfection of such spectacle does not resonate with the undulated emotions of one person.

When Honoka steps from the alleyway, Shisui passes in a spur of coldness. As if they were strangers with memories, they simultaneously stall. Shisui is gazing at her with mild interest, but not before sweeping his watch at the building behind. Honoka sees past this, her social understanding of awkward situations does not exist in her world.

"Shisui, how do you do?" She says airily.

Her robotic voice unsettles the air, a mismatch of the beautiful night display.

"Honoka…" he says slowly, and he averts his gaze to the ground, as if unable to look at her.

They remain silent, the tension far from fading before Shisui speaks again.

"What are you doing out here so uh late?"

He finally looks to her with that very forced smile.

Honoka learnt that it is a cue of reassurance meant to cover discomfort. But she does not know where the unease is coming from.

"I am walking to the hospital laboratory," she replies honestly.

When she attempts to close the distance between them, he automatically steps back with tentativeness.

"I see."

Her answer does not satisfy the disconcertment he is displaying.

"I won't keep you then," he continues quickly, "goodnight."

"Shisui-"

He disappears before her sentence is complete. And though her mind in unable to process the rising level of abashment, her emotions spell a different story. It brings her conscious back to their game of chess several nights ago, her brazen moves a source of harrowing sadness she cannot detach from her mind.

She had overstepped her boundaries, the proximity too close when she reached for his face. But he stopped her at the last second with a perturbed frown etched across his features.

"Honoka, what are you doing?" He asked.

She could not provide a reasonable answer, she was simply following those newly spawned feelings, alleviating the tightness with every move she made. And when his hand halted her movement, she relished in the strangeness of his touch.

"I am trying to alleviate the pain in my chest," she answered lightly.

And when she decided to place his hand against her chest as demonstration, he suddenly pulled from her grasp. Perhaps it was the shock, which she may have attributed that to the unreadable expression across his face, but his words were different to what she had thought.

"Sorry Honoka, let's call it at night," he said firmly.

"We have not completed our game. We cannot just leave it halfway-"

"Sorry Honoka, I have to insist. I'm quite tired and I do have an early mission tomorrow."

She had left confused. He had never stopped in the middle of a game before, no matter the situation.

By the deserted streets, she recalls the turmoil of that night. The parallels in emotions between then and tonight is indistinguishable. A part of her senses she is missing something, be it the lack of social understanding or whether she has done something inappropriate that is a cause of her ignorance.

For the next hour, she sits in a swirl of her own muse, her feet does not take her to the hospital laboratory, rather to the park bench she sat earlier today. Her mind sits vacant and numb, yet the spiral of emotions exaggerate to no end. It sparks as a result of _their_ conversation, and the constant reminder that Shisui is drifting further and further away from her.

But what gnaws at the pain is that someone, _Nanami_ , is able to understand and draw that level of comfort and security from him. It rests in the animation, and the smile he gives, and the more she sees it, the more resentment she feels.

"Honoka?"

Her name echoes in the deep recess of her mind, as if the sound is searching and waiting for her. Shisui is the only person who ever calls her name, and aside from Danzo-sama who only contacts her at the laboratory, her hopeful mind has already tuned into reality.

But instead of Shisui, she sees a familiar person - Izumi.

"Hello Izumi, how do you do?" She says automatically.

Izumi shifts uncomfortably before she speaks.

"Nice night is it not?" She says casually.

Honoka nods.

"Can I sit here?" She asks.

"It is a two seater seat, and there is only one person seated, so I do believe you can," Honoka answers pragmatically.

"What are you doing out here so late?" She asks, and she takes the empty space.

"I…I…"

It is the first time she cannot provide a proper explanation for being in a certain place. In all her life, she has never skipped work, nor refused an order.

Izumi peers closely before returning her gaze to the sparkly velvet canvas.

"Is something troubling you?" She asks without disengaging from the stars.

"I am taking a walk and I am now resting," Honoka answers.

There are elements of truth and she is not lying.

"Hm."

Honoka averts to the ground in reflection. She has never had anyone sit beside her and ask questions like this before. But something about Izumi's presence is comforting. She radiates an aura of security that comes with the entitlement of strong bonds. And though Honoka may not know what strong bonds entail, she has read about it.

Sometimes she would liken it to her relationship with Shisui. He brings a source of enigmatic tranquility to her world, a feeling that intertwines trust and comfort. Yet despite spending time with Shisui, she still knows nothing about him.

"Izumi, may I ask you a question?"

The polite tone is always an indicator that Honoka is unsure of her questions and its level of appropriateness.

"Go ahead," Izumi answers.

"Is your friend Nanami friends with Shisui?"

"Mm…I suppose they are," she replies.

"I see, thank you for answering my question."

There is a brief silence before Izumi speaks.

"Why do you ask about Nanami and Shisui?"

When asking questions, Honoka would have a reason, or at least an idea that would facilitate her understanding of something. But this time, she is uncertain. Perhaps Izumi may be able to assist her with answering these newly spawned feelings?

"E-Every time I see them together, I do not feel at ease," she breathes, "I am unsure."

Izumi is now watching unwaveringly.

"Why them specifically?"

"I-I do not know. I feel they are good friends and I don't-"

She stops mid-sentence as a surge of pain tightens that same place across her chest. The physical discomfort comes microseconds before images of Shisui and Nanami flashes like lightning.

"Honoka, does it hurt you when you see them together?"

And without needing to think through an answer, she shuts her eyes tight and nods.

"Y-Yes, it hurts…r-right here…"

She clutches at her chest, a futile attempt to quell the physical anguish.

"I do not know what it is and I do not know how to make it go away, so I t-tried everything I could think of, but I t-think I made things worse with Shisui."

Her hand is warm on her shoulder, a realisation that Izumi is reinforcing her security in the form of physical touch. She allows the seconds to past before she speaks mellowly.

"Honoka, do you love Shisui?"

The question is simple, but the profound impact startles her.

"It is not. I read that love is a feeling of enjoyment, happiness and pleasure. The definition is inaccurate with the state I am feeling."

"But when love is taken away from you, you feel the opposite effect."

The comment is distant. She cannot seem to match the negative feelings to the definition of what constitutes as love. But it seems Izumi is closer to the truth than she would ever hope to be.

"I read there are many different types of love. How do I know which is the one I am feeling?" Honoka asks, and she is watching Izumi stare intently at the landscape before her.

"If you love someone that way you would normally think of them all the time, and you are always hoping to see them and talk to them and touch them and embrace them and just be around them all the time. You just feel attracted to them," Izumi says.

"I do feel all that you said," Honoka agrees, but a different matter weighs heavy against her, "What do people do then, to alleviate the pain?"

Izumi does not immediately speak, as if she is contemplating on how best to respond to Honoka's question.

"Usually people would confess in the hopes the other person would reciprocate."

"I see, then if I do that, the pain would go away."

Izumi looks troubled.

"Honoka, what will you do if I told you Shisui and Nanami are dating?"

"You mean they have been on a date?"

Izumi looks to her sadly, a strong component of regret transpiring across her gaze.

"I-I am unsure," Honoka continues truthfully.

Perhaps the pain would be too unimaginable for a precise answer, but already, Honoka senses an escalating level of hurt and agony. She does not foresee things in future and how she may react to situations. For her, it is easier to focus on the here and now.

x

It turns out Izumi has her Council's Mission with Itachi that evening.

When Izumi disappears for the village gates, Honoka takes an unusually longer route home.

Her thoughts intrude her conscious, its content circulating unsystematically in a jumble of agonising imageries. And only when she sees him sitting alone by an empty park do the thoughts begin to congregate and seep out like black ink. It shows the pain and emptiness that is her muse, and the vacantness of her mind that is disappearing into the darkened skies.

"Excuse me, Shisui but may I sit here next to you?" She asks politely.

But she is shaking as she speaks, another sign of the newly spawned feelings she is finding hard to adjust.

"Honoka," he blinks surprisingly.

When he nods in acknowledgement, she takes a seat and keeps quiet for a long time. Shisui does not seem unsettled by the silence, and when Honoka decides to speak, she finds he may have retreated into the secure recess of his own reverie.

"Shisui, may I ask you a question?"

"Go ahead," he answers without looking at her.

"How do you know if you love someone?"

He finally averts to her, a peculiar look of speculation reflected in his features.

"You would always want to protect the one you love," he replies pensively. He leans forward and gazes up at the celestial body, perhaps speaking more to himself than answering Honoka's question.

"I have been told if you love someone, you should confess and tell them."

He shrugs insouciantly.

"That too I guess," he says indifferently.

"I see. If that is the case, I love you Shisui."

It may have come across disconnected, considering Shisui's excruciatingly slow response. But he stares at her for a long time, his expression intrigued yet somehow impassive.

"I read somewhere that the next step is to go on a date," Honoka continues as if they are having a normal, casual conversation.

He inhales deeply, _uneasily_.

"I'm sorry Honoka, I've already agreed to that with someone else," he answers softly.

But Honoka does not understand, nor can she process the fluctuating emotions that have been occurring between them since her arrival.

"That is okay, there are plenty of other days."

"Sorry, Honoka, it doesn't work like that."

She watches him closely, a fruitless try at figuring out the inappropriateness of her suggestion.

"Do you have an alternative?"

"There won't be an alternative."

"I do not understand. We already have our scheduled fortnightly catch ups. Can we not use that time as a date-"

"Honoka," he interrupts firmly, "let's leave it at that."

He stands, a clear indicator that the conversation is to end.

Though her conscious is questioning the sudden turn of events, a part of her that has everything to do with those newly spawned emotions, is sending a host of signals that signifies rejection.

"If you are not going to offer an alternative, then please get out of my head," she says gravely.

Her voice trembles, a perfect sync with the tempestuous emotions that are plaguing her insides. At this point, she does not know what to do, or how to feel. Still, the reaction is foreign to her and perhaps it is not Shisui or his words that she is afraid of, but the emotions that accompanies his presence.

Even as she sits there with false composure, she can still sense the lingering existence of other agonising feelings. It leaks from the corners of her eyes, the hot wetness temporarily coating the coolness of her cheeks before evaporating into the coldness. This is her first time experiencing such physical sensations.

Shisui does not refute her comment, nor does he provide any comfort to her dilemma. In usual circumstances, Shisui would always be the first person to answer any social conundrums. Yet in this very situation where an answer proves pivotal, he does not speak.

"Can you please at least tell me how to do that? I do not want to continue feeling this foreign pain I am unaccustomed to," she says ruefully.

"I don't know how to do that," Shisui replies.

His tone is quiet, an element of resignation.

At his comment, the pain consumes her in a blur of black and white.

When he politely dismisses himself, she watches as the colourful buildings, the hills and valleys, and the blooming flowers that reflects brightly under the moon's ray, turn an inky monotone.

With each step, he furthers from her, and with each section he passes, the colours drain in a swirl of rainbows, leaving that same inky monotone behind.


	28. Foreign

Summer arrives with a tidal wave of intense heat that scalds and penetrates deep. It has been five days since they departed for South Sea, a tiny village that sits on the border of the Fire and Wind countries.

It takes them almost three days to reach the town from the borders, and though arduous, the trek is pleasantly serene.

At their arrival, navigating the narrow streets and windy pathways prove more problematic than what was instructed. The village is marred by harsh terrains, overgrown nature and broken stones.

Population is minimal, with residents mostly skewed towards their later years and are predominantly male.

By the murky waters that surrounds a tiny set of straw huts, Itachi and Izumi shadow their internal compass towards an unremarkable shack that hides a stout, bearded man who appears suspiciously fragile.

"May we inconvenience you for several minutes," Itachi asks politely.

When the man grunts in acknowledgement, Itachi gestures for Izumi to follow through.

On closer inspection, the man's age is almost incongruent with the labour intensive task he is performing. His wrinkles sag, morphing his face into an unidentifiable shape as he repeatedly hammers and sculpts a black coloured stone.

"You're the Konoha ninja, hey?"

The man mutters several words thereafter before glancing swiftly in Itachi's direction.

"We were asked by the Third Hokage to give you this," Itachi continues without signs of judgement.

The man takes the scroll without question, and though excruciatingly old, his hands are oddly nimble as it manoeuvres the opening of the scroll with ease.

"Here you go," he says hoarsely upon completion of reading.

With incredible swiftness, he pulls out a stack of purple coloured stones from beneath the drawers.

"These need replenishing," he continues gruffly, "but you can only do one at a time."

He does not state the stone's usage, and judging from his lack of concern, it may be a strong indicator of the stone's market value.

"Take this stone to Cascades Mountain," he points to a mountainous region to the east, "and follow the directions on this map to this cave. Once inside, search for an underground chamber. You will find a marble-like basin filled with liquid sand. Please place the stone in there for replenishing. We will have a special person collect the stone when it is ready."

The man's tone is now thick and dull, his accent heavy with a strong air of unease.

"Thank you, we will attend to this as instructed," Itachi says.

"Wait one moment," the man heaves, and his eyes move to rest on Izumi as if he only just noticed her presence, "Who is the young lady? For a good deal, I have grandsons who would like to-"

The tense atmosphere is immediate. Though Izumi is standing behind him, Itachi detects a sudden change in mood - perhaps revulsion and scepticism.

"Comrade," Itachi interjects coldly.

The fury is strangely noticeable from somewhere within his conscious mind. And without concerning himself with its origin, he turns for the door.

"Izumi," he says quietly, and she stares at him with that same fearful expression only he is capable of reading.

But to the outside world, Izumi's composure stretches beyond perfect. An element of her training as a ninja, and perhaps as her position in this world as a female.

When Itachi takes her arm, the stiffened muscles melt within his protective grip.

They depart for Cascades Mountain, a journey that sends a component of relief between the two ninjas. Neither speak to one another as they walk through the treacherous terrains.

Perhaps it is not what happened back at the old man's house - something like that would not be uncommon, considering Izumi's position as a kunoichi. But, rather it was his response towards Izumi's discomfort.

It may be the instinctive need to look out for each other as village comrades, but he gets the foreign sensation that the need to protect stems from something much deeper.


	29. Infliction

His date with Nanami brings a deluge of forced contentment that passes in a spur of jumbled memories. He cannot recall what they did several minutes ago, let alone the past several hours. Yet the rising levels of guilt lingers ever so imminently when Nanami sends a barrage of questions in his direction.

"Shisui, did you see how quickly they made those sculptures?" She asks eagerly.

The day almost seems natural, but this 'date,' courtesy of Izumi and Yuki's on the spot arrangement, has gradually morphed into an artificial situation that perhaps only he can sense.

"Yes of course, a spectacular show," he says cheerfully.

The memories of said show is a vague fog - he is not lying, albeit his lack of internal engagement is close enough to warrant dishonesty.

They continue their way through the village markets, Nanami's joviality infects the atmosphere with every passing moment. And though Shisui is willing to be in her presence, there is a swarm of darkened emotions that is clinging to the side of his body.

Itachi and Izumi's absence has given the clan more reason to suspect deception - however they may come to such absurd conclusions. But the effects are profound. Their level of mistrust and vigilance mounts, and he is forced to escalate the intensity of observation on Itachi.

"Shisui, target aiming. I'll challenge you," Nanami says avidly.

Without awaiting an answer, she drags him towards the busy game stall.

"Two games," she says.

For the sake of politeness, Shisui reluctantly agrees. His mind is unable to assemble a reasonable sentence for protest.

And though agile, Nanami's aim is not perfect. Her kunai hold leaves her imbalanced, missing the middle target by several inches. Yet she manages to foresee the target's moving direction, a clear indicator of strong analytical abilities.

At Shisui's turn, his target aims are unsurprisingly perfect, but the admiration sounds he hears from the surrounding audience is more than enough for him to automatically withdraw.

He does not like attracting attention, and though he appears quite visibly uncomfortable, Nanami is oblivious.

"Shisui, you could have gone easy on me," she teases.

"I won't discriminate when it comes to competition," Shisui answers.

And when she stares back at him in surprise, he cannot help but feel a sense of enjoyment.

"I didn't win anything though," she sighs.

"I did," he says, "so you can pick and have the prize."

"Me?"

She looks to him in bafflement before streaks of red infiltrates her face.

"Sure," he answers brightly, "I can take the win, and you can take the prize."

She picks a grey-blue stuffed toy that greatly resembles a large hound.

"Thanks, Shisui, this is so cute."

She presses the toy to her chest in admiration before following him through the village.

Whilst Nanami is occupied with the surroundings, Shisui forces the rising feeling of unease that invades his mind at random. His persistent attempts at pulling himself to the present proves bitterly futile, yet his conscious becomes temporarily impaired by another issue.

When they past a row of park benches, he sees Honoka for the first time in days.

She is sitting absent-mindedly with what appears to be a chess box on her lap, gazing steadily into the vast fields as if floating between two separate realities.

Involuntarily, Shisui flinches at the sight, a stark reminder that today at this hour is their supposed fortnightly catch up.

Days earlier, Honoka had attempted to revisit their conversation from that night, an action that led him to forcefully halt their catch up indefinitely.

Still, Honoka did not understand.

"If we are halting those fortnightly catch ups, does that mean rescheduling it to another day?" She asked.

"No, it means indefinitely altogether."

"I do not understand, that is not how the friendship works. Friendship requires reinforcement."

"Honoka, it does not work that way. Let's leave it at that," he replied firmly.

But that was a bad point to leave. Honoka did not comprehend the meaning behind his intentions, no matter the variations in his explanation.

He feels a sense of repercussion from that conversation, considering Honoka has been sitting in the same place - the spot where they always meet for their scheduled catch ups - every day with the chess box on her lap. Their catch up would normally go for about an hour - the same time and duration Honoka would spend sitting by the park bench waiting hopefully for a game.

The guilt is so incredibly strong, Shisui finds it impossible to be in her presence. He does not understand his own actions, nor the frustration he has with Honoka. Yet he does not exhibit such emotions to the outside world. A part of him wishes to continue his friendship with her, but the more he reinforces the relationship, the worst her existence is affected.

By the time Nanami and Shisui reach the riverbank, the sun is slowly setting and the glowing fields of flowers are reflecting a wondrous display of colours.

Nanami's joyous spirit gets him smiling, however a small part of him is heavily complacent in watching the emptiness of space amongst the faraway hills.

"Shisui, look at these flowers," Nanami says, and she brings a large yellow-white peony to show him her find.

"Do you think it would look good on my hair," she asks sheepishly.

"I believe so," Shisui replies honestly.

"Would you mind? There's no mirror," she says tentatively, and she hands him the flower.

It takes him several moments to process her intentions before he places the flower on her ear against her hair.

"Looks great on you," he says.

"You're too kind," she answers quietly.

They remain silent thereafter, a quietude that has an air of sweetness intermeshed with a thin layer of anxiety.

When Nanami speaks, she is averting from him, her tone soft and demure.

"Shisui, thank you for today, I had a great time."

And without waiting for his answer, Nanami steps forward and embraces him.

The sudden movement is startling, but Shisui holds his composure well. His response is stilted and unsure, as if afraid he would make a wrong move by reacting.

But when Nanami stirs uneasily, he can detect the timorous uncertainty that may be a reaction to his lack of reciprocation.

Hesitantly, he responds to her embrace, the warmth she provides is a comforting equilibrium to the cool summer breeze.

x

When Nanami departs for home, Shisui's mind inundates itself with the increasing mountain of reports and mission preparation for next week.

As if his day with Nanami resembles an iron-clad gate, her absence has led to the destruction of such security.

A deluge of emotional turmoil blends with the fatigue that is weighing heavily against him. And yet he has always been solution focused, a clear, pragmatic mind that pushes him to achieve so called prodigy status. But he never measures his self-worth based on people's perception of his fighting abilities.

Conflicts within his clan and the loyalty he pledges to the village has stirred an internal battle he wishes he would be labelled a prodigy for. But internal battles are fought alone, and he gets that overwhelming sensation that he is losing spectacularly.

"Excuse me, Shisui."

Honoka's vacant tone stirs his quarrelling mind and sends him into the present.

"Honoka," he says.

Her presence at this hour is surprising, considering he never sees anyone at this time.

"I see you are walking alone," she says blankly.

Her expression is dull and bland, yet there may be an underlying feature of concern behind her impassive gaze.

"Yes, just a stroll for fresh air," he says, consciously acknowledging that he has been out for fresh air since midday.

She keeps silent for several moments before speaking.

"Are you feeling sad?" She asks curiously.

Her watch is careful, as if she is selectively confirming something.

"What made you ask that?"

He is half puzzled, half surprise at her assumptions.

"I am unsure," she frowns.

When he does not reply, Honoka fumbles in her bag and pulls out a small package wrapped in green paper.

"Shisui, this is for you," she says.

"What's it for?"

"I made it for you because I think you may be feeling sad. I read that when someone feels sad, it helps if you make them something sweet to eat. It also shows that you are thinking about them and that someone is out there making sweets for them."

Shisui does not question her statement. Sadness may not be an entirely correct definition that concludes his state of mind, but Honoka may only have a limited vocabulary when it comes to understanding and naming emotions.

"Thank you. You didn't have to."

"I figured that friends would be there for each other when they are feeling sad. I wanted to live up to our friendship."

Instead of appreciation, his mind is suffused with guilt and resentment. A part of him does not want to reinforce any actions that may push Honoka into any misunderstandings. However, she is making it difficult for him when it comes to her understanding of friendship.

"This won't reinstate our fortnightly schedule," Shisui says.

"That is okay. I will wait for you until you do not feel sad anymore."

"No, Honoka, please don't do that. I don't want you to sit and wait."

"I see, may I ask why?"

"I don't know when it would be appropriate to have our catch ups again."

He is wondering at this stage whether he is protecting Honoka or himself.

 _From what?_

"I see. I am okay with that," she pauses, thinking hard, "Shisui, may I have a hug like you did with Nanami earlier?"

He stares at her in bemusement. The peculiarity of her sudden questioning and transient topics will never be something he can fully comprehend, let alone her creepy knowledge of his earlier embrace with Nanami.

"I can't do that," he replies tensely.

"May I ask why you were able to with Nanami but not me?"

He frowns.

"It's a bit different with her," he says.

"I see. I apologise, is it something inappropriate I have asked?"

When Shisui remains silent, Honoka continues.

"I just want to know what it feels like, but I apologise if that is something I am not meant to ask."

At her comment, he averts to the ground, his gaze locked intently onto the short, spiky patches of parched grass.

He can accept her request should he choose to, considering his relationship with Nanami extends no further than friendship. But his sudden need to distance himself from Honoka calls for some level of disconcertment.

It is this moment that his mind is suddenly able to speak on Honoka's level, a way that she would perhaps understand his point.

"Honoka, I think it's best if we end our friendship contract."

His comment elicits a troubled expression from her.

"May I ask why?"

Her tone stumbles between each word, a disheartening reaction she never gives.

"It's-" he abruptly hesitates, the decision attached to his spoken words is inconsistent with the reluctant emotions coursing through him.

"Is it something I have done that can be rectified?" She asks quietly.

At this point, Honoka is no longer present. As if speaking to herself and answering her own questions, her glazed look merges with her movements to form a bizarre slow motion walk.

Shisui does not speak nor react to her slow disappearance. The guilt that is sitting painfully against him has dispersed into minuscule fragments of remorse. It has merged with him, no longer a swirl of emotions that can be locked away at forceful will.

And if there is one agonising revelation about Honoka, he has gotten through to her level of social understanding - by an infliction that punctured the core of what little emotion she had left.


	30. Disengage

Their arrival at Cascades Town is met with the collision of exquisite nature. The scenery, with its alluring beauty and sweet quietude, transcends that of anything man-made. From vines, to branches and leaves, nature entwines itself with the construction of village houses that warms the silent atmosphere.

At a nearby restaurant, Izumi and Itachi suspend their journey for the sake of physical replenishment. The inside air is dull, a strong mismatch of untainted mountain breeze floating outside.

Before her, Itachi sits deceptively dazed, a demeanour of vigilance with a large portion of his mind withdrawn. His speech has steadily creeped into the non-verbal domain, not once does he bother to expend energy answering her long winded questions.

Since departing Konoha, Itachi's level of concentration has diminished remarkably. Although they have not crossed enemies, Izumi is surprisingly adept at analysing the level of awareness her teammate displays. Almost as if Itachi is honing his level of caution into something imaginary, it seems his thoughts may be more of a substantial enemy than anything that exists on the outside.

"Itachi, our food is here," Izumi says.

She gently shakes his shoulder before he gives in to the stimulation.

"Sorry, Izumi, I must have zoned out," he replies automatically.

She frowns anxiously.

"You don't say. Itachi is everything okay?"

He remains silent, as if eating is now on autopilot and he can return to his inner muse.

Though Izumi is not particularly bothered by such behaviour, she finds the action disturbing when it is attached to Itachi. This is the first time she has seen him drift dangerously from reality.

As they leave for their inn, Izumi passes a trio that sends a disturbing feeling across her body. Her arm accidentally scrapes against the wall as she desperately squeezes through the gap.

But it rebounds and hits the side of someone.

"Oi kid! Watch where you're going!"

The tone is low and menacing, its owner twice as fierce as his speech. Standing over seven feet with slick, well-oiled chains across his chest, he sends Izumi an intimidating stare that gets her glaring back in retaliation.

Size and looks does not deter her from a battle, and she will not hesitate to challenge anyone who underestimates her.

"My apologies," she answers tensely.

The man does not react to her forced apology, and it seems he may have read her underlying vexation.

When he attempts to block her way, another voice floats through. The sound is oddly eerie, as if the speaker is whispering yet the tone is loud enough to warrant normal speaking level.

"Fudo, this is a public space," the voice says.

And when Izumi tracks the source, she is watching a bizarre looking figure, its eyes yellow and undoubtedly auspicious. She cannot see the person's face - the rough bandages act as a cover that hides their identity.

With lightning speed, Fudo withdraws from the entry, revealing a third person who is standing beside the mysterious bandaged person.

A pretty young woman who appears severely mismatched against her two fellow comrades. Her shoulder length brown hair reminds Izumi of Honoka, however, this woman does not exude blandness. The purple strips on her cheeks may indicate her association with a clan, albeit she appears highly disinterested in her surroundings, let alone fighting.

"Please do excuse, Fudo," the bandaged person says.

Still for the life of Izumi, she cannot figure out whether this person is a man or woman.

Then, the person turns and directs their attention to Itachi, who is standing beside Izumi with a peculiar expression on his face.

Izumi can rarely read his emotions, yet she feels a strong component of suspicion radiating from him.

"Ah, Uchiha Itachi, what a splendid coincidence," the person says, and the tone is indicative of a hungry predator.

"But the coincidence sadly does not coincide with the success of my experiments," the person continues, "Given more time, a prey evolves and becomes stronger and stronger, yet the excitement and thrill of capturing such prey is more than worth it for the predator."

The person points a slack finger at Itachi, a powerful hint of excitement that consumes their inner psyche.

On Izumi's end, the disturbing comment sends a wave of repulsion and disdain throughout. She moves to grip Itachi's arm, a look of pure contempt suffusing her face.

"W-What sort of creepy, disgusting thing are you talking about?" Izumi demands grimly.

And that low, menacing snicker reinforces her aversion.

"Play with him well," the person says, gesturing for Fudo and the woman to follow, "We will meet again, Itachi, I will make sure of it."

As the group disappears in shadows, Izumi and Itachi depart immediately - towards an inn furthest away from the village restaurant.

Izumi's mind is fiercely inundated with the person's abhorrent nature, yet her physical is strangely composed - an exemplary example of her body being conditioned to remain wary of immediate post-suspicious circumstances.

Ahead, Itachi remains silent to the previous ordeal, as if the situation is a common aspect of his work and warrants little regard for the danger level it deserves.

Perhaps it is Izumi who overestimates her enemy? Regardless, Itachi's observed demeanour, whether confronted by enemies or the empty landscape before him, remains a solid line of deliberate detachment.

At the inn, when they are settled with separate keys and rooms, the silent journey upwards continue to stir unease.

"Itachi, one moment please," Izumi says.

She grips his arm and halts him.

"Itachi, is everything okay? You can tell me."

His back faces her, the relax position he had adopted all night turns unusually rigid.

"Perhaps," he answers vaguely, and Izumi gets the strong impression that he is drifting.

"Itachi, I know something is on your mind. The coup d'etat?"

But his reactions are far from startling. He merely turns to her with a blank expression, as if the coup is the least of his worries.

"Don't worry Izumi, I will be okay. We are almost at the end of this mission, let's rest up."

Izumi is troubled, but she cannot force him to speak things if he chooses to refrain. His lack of engagement in a zone rife with enemies is a call for disconcertment, however, a speck of intuition tells Izumi he may know more than he lets on.

When he speaks his goodbye and turns for the staircase that diverges and demarcates their inn rooms, Izumi's jumbled mind decides to speak before she can hold herself.

"It's dangerous what you are doing!" She says angrily, "Regardless of how strong you are, or the problems that are going through your mind, you cannot disengage. Why must you do something that would put yourself in danger?"

From somewhere deep inside, she can hear her own frantic heartbeat, a sound so loud, she is sure Itachi can hear every irregular rhythm.

He pauses in his ascending. And as he looks over his shoulder at her, there is passive reluctance grazing his underlying features.

But what Izumi sees is resignation.

"Because my mind is safe when you are around," he answers quietly.


	31. Existence

_**This chapter contains trigger content for sexual abuse**_

* * *

The hot spring is that rare treat she gives herself once a blue moon. The timing has to be right, considering her need to extract herself from human company.

Part of being an introvert, a _loner_ , is the quietude that exists within her surroundings. The influencing environment tames her muse, settling even the most virulent of thoughts. But such thing rarely exists nowadays, considering her recent ordeal with Shisui - or perhaps it pertains to her broken friendship with him?

Regardless, her life has taken a tumultuous turn, a fluctuation of both positive alienness and negative feelings she finds unfathomable.

In the dead of the night, Honoka takes her place at the village's furthest hot spring. It is often quiet - even by day, and as evening sets, the silence turns deafening. The trade off becomes an evocative stillness she revels in, an unperturbed quietness that is discordant with the blaring sounds of her inexplicable thoughts.

But such pleasantness is excruciatingly transient.

The doors to the outside rattles, planting seeds of restless displeasure to the sombre ambience.

Her body startles with the sudden appearance of two unwelcoming women she wishes to forget. They are her laboratory colleagues, who have decided to impede her privacy with their wicked glares and Machiavellian insults. Even their presence taints the air, and when they step into the waters, the hostility heightens.

"Ugh…a cockroach," Tsubaki sneers.

The other woman, Honoka forgets her name, and perhaps for the sake of her own toxic muse, sends a tidal wave of water in Honoka's direction as if to erase an unpleasant sight.

"Get out of our spot," Tsubaki snarls.

The hatred is so strong, Honoka can feel its physical manifestation in the form of unpleasant air sweeping the surface of her skin. And though the animosity is something many would process as a sign to comply, Honoka does not understand the impending consequences of a refusal.

"I do not believe you have legal ownership over this spot. The hot spring belongs to Konoha, and it clearly states on the signage that it is for public use. As members of the public, everyone is entitled to use the springs without feeling the need to vacate. I therefore, am unable to accept your request to 'get out' unless you provide me with some form of evidence that I cannot be here."

Honoka speaks fast, blunt and in a sensationally robotic tone. There are no feelings attached to her words; her comments come from pure logic - it is the only way to explain the situation.

Unfortunately, her social awareness and perception of what is deemed as dangerous and provoking behaviour, is almost non-existent.

At her long, oral exposition, Tsubaki paddles close, until she is barely inches from her face.

"How dare you speak to me like that, you vile bitch," she snarls.

Her tone is low and threatening, a clear indicator of impending abuse.

"Respect your seniors!" And she spits on Honoka's face.

Tension escalates fast. Another tidal wave of hot water, and Honoka is pushed against the jagged edges of rocks.

The other woman, who can be heard sniggering with uncontrollable shaking, is now watching the commotion with euphoric intensity.

"I've also seen you lurking around Shisui lately. If I remember correctly, he looked very uncomfortable in your presence. So on behalf of our village prodigy, we feel it necessary to protect him from disgusting vermin like you."

Tsubaki's hard tone sends a chilling breeze of danger throughout the atmosphere. As she surveys Honoka with increasing incredulity, there seems to be a new kind of anger that is fuelling her escalating level of exasperation.

"Perhaps you are parading this body of yours to him?"

The accusation stings, and for the first time, Honoka's composure is starting to crack.

"I hate bitches like you," Tsubaki breathes.

She now hovers close, peering closely at Honoka's face before reaching over and gripping her arms in a tenacious hold. And if use to such brutal treatment, Honoka does not flinch.

"I'm disappointed that someone like you has been gifted with such a nice body," Tsubaki breathes enviously.

There is anger etched into her gaze that rivals even the water's temperature. And when she reaches out to grab hold of Honoka's breasts, there is the sudden sound of suppressed wails that reverberates grotesquely into the darkened night.

Tsbuaki's grip is menacing, every muscle in her hands used as a malicious weapon. Honoka is sure the bruising would render her immobile for several days. And when those sharp nails dig viciously into her flesh, she lets out a whimper of defeat that gets Tsubaki hesitating.

Honoka takes the chance to duck beneath the bloodied waters, a futile attempt at escape. The other woman blocks her way, and with agonising unease, Honoka's hair is dragged upwards and out the waters. Only inches away from her face, she can see the brutality that marks the pupils of Tsubaki's gaze.

Again, she scans Honoka's body, surveying with increasing inquisitiveness before letting out a revolting screech.

"Why do you have marks and scars all over your chest?"

The other woman, who's interest has piqued at Tsubaki's questioning, is now wading over to examine the various bruise and bite marks that are scattered across Honoka's breasts.

"Disgusting trash," Tsubaki spits at the sudden realisation.

She releases Honoka and backs away in repugnance.

"You should be ashamed of yourself you dirty slut," the other woman adds.

"Lets leave. I wouldn't want to share this water with this dirty slut in it," Tsubaki says.

They disappear with remarkable speed, as if the desperation to escape has overridden their inconvenience of having to travel so far to this hot spring.

Honoka remains in the waters. The remnants of her blood has now diluted in a swirl of bubbling water and steam. Still, her chest continues to bleed from punctured wounds, the pain no longer present in her conscious mind.

At the women's departure, Honoka is neither disappointed nor relieved. She is having trouble understanding their accusations, as if she has done something socially inappropriate and is finding it difficult to decipher what it truly was.

She struggles with being left behind, her tireless attempts at reading and learning about ways to adapt to society has proven challenging, futile and undoubtedly painful.

With the occurrence of so many failed tries, she is certainly being punished for learning, yet if she does not pursue that desire to adapt and integrate, she is also punished.

The ridicule sits close on either side, and not for the first time, she questions her role, and the reason for her existence.

Perhaps she was born to serve, to comply with orders?

But she has learnt of her unprivileged position, and challenging it seems to send her into a spiral of deeper problems.

Her desire for freedom is unknown. But a small part of her knows the feeling of said freedom, yet she cannot seem to draw links with this part of her inner self.

Her existence takes the form of black and white. The brief and recent coloured world she saw has become synonymous with Shisui's acceptance of her actuality. The kindness he offers far exceeds any form of praise she has ever gotten.

And only when Shisui decides to erase his presence from her, does she feel a savage loneliness that eats cruelly at her very own existence.

x

"You called, Danzo-sama?"

Her voice is oddly pitched, as if frightened of the looming figure that is overshadowing her tiny form.

"Honoka, do you remember the values instilled into Root members?" He answers tersely.

Honoka does not see his face, her forehead has sunk low against the cold, floor of concrete. When she nods without speaking, the thudding sounds of wood against ground startles her into oblivion.

She lets out a terrifying squeak before facing the long end of Danzo's walking stick.

"I cannot hear you," Danzo says quietly.

His voice is low and dangerous, the hard edge cuts like kunais across the dismal surroundings of Root's underground.

"Y-Yes, Danzo-sama," she replies tentatively.

"If you recall such values, why are they not being cherished? Practiced? Enforced?"

When she remains agonisingly silent, Danzo continues his didactic rants in that same deadly tone.

"You see, Root is there to provide Konoha what the Third cannot. We protect from the underground, and by that, it extends to all aspects of the work we do. I have been personally informed by Mizuku-sama that you have been absent during his visits."

His eyes narrow with passive hostility, each word released coated by a thin layer of subdued aggression.

"Honoka, my subordinates have also informed me that you have been getting a little friendly with someone - Uchiha Shisui perhaps?"

She flinches violently at the sound of Shisui's name, yet a large factor of those discomforting reaction stems from the fear of being punished.

"Would you care to provide an explanation?" Danzo continues.

Honoka is bizarrely still, as if tracked and cornered by a bloodthirsty predator.

"I-I…do not…cannot do so anymore, I do not understand w-why…"

Her stuttering is severe, she wonders whether Danzo can comprehend a word.

"I will tell you why. Your emotions have infiltrated your ability to become a competent member of Root. Mizuku-sama brings in the largest proportion of economic prosperity into Konoha, against many other important personnels. You were his favourite, and yet you allow emotions to sabotage the village's prospect of survival? When you become a member of Root, you belong to Root. Everything, from your emotions, to your work, intelligence, mind, body, soul. If you cannot accept that then perhaps you are not cut out to be a part of us."

The explanation is deeply profound.

Honoka shakes her head vigorously, afraid of the consequences - a place she wishes to never re-visit.

"Please have mercy, Danzo-sama. I will continue to reinforce Root's values. I will cherish and preserve every part of it."

The silence is brief, before Danzo speaks.

"Seeing your desperation for redemption, I'll take your situation to good use. Perhaps you would like to accept the next mission on offer."

It was not a question. Regardless of her answer, Danzo's disapproval of her recent actions has pushed her to the brink of accepting any mission - be it unreasonable or not.

But she has little choice. Her existence in this village has been reduced to a mere slave who works to have a roof over her head, food to eat and a village to keep her safe.

No one is there to protect her. Even if she disappears, she would quickly fade into the background with no legacy, no achievement - nothing.

Because in her world, she has no one.


	32. Fifty

Cascades Mountain is an inconspicuous formation that sits amongst large, steep mountains. Access involves an arduous hike across narrow pathways that ends in a pool of deep waters barricaded by jagged rocks.

To the wandering outsider with no information, their exploration ends here. But given that Itachi and Izumi are presented with direct access to confidential intelligence, they wade across a line of shallow, still waters and disappear behind a spectacular waterfall.

"We crawl through here?" Izumi frowns.

She looks to the map and gestures uncertainly at a muddy trail that leads to a dead end.

When Itachi surveys close, there is a small indent that traces a pointed path up amongst the rocks.

"We climb this. I'll go first," Itachi says, and he ascends, careful to have the tip of his toes pressed firmly against the indentations.

But the strange energy he feels does not immediately suffuse until he is a quarter way up. It takes him several seconds to realise that he is weakening, albeit in a slow manner that allows his body time to replenish.

"Izumi, my chakra is being absorbed, but I think it is okay for you to climb," he calls.

Below, he can see Izumi's troubled expression. She begins her ascent without question, the frown on her face morphing into disconcertment as she too appears to feel the disappearance of her chakra.

As they rendezvous at halfway point, Itachi turns to Izumi, who is watching her surroundings with cautious avidness.

"Itachi, I feel as if my chakra is only half full, it has been like that for the past few minutes."

"Yes, it does seem like the absorption has stabilised," he replies thoughtfully.

"You reckon it's still absorbing?"

"I believe so. Turn your Sharingan on," he says.

They both activate simultaneously.

And as if witnessing a gentle stream of water, the chakras flow from their bodies in a slow, delicate motion, enough for their bodies to continuously replenish.

"It's like our chakra is sitting at fifty percent," Izumi says surprisingly.

"The absorption rate accelerates if our chakra levels hit above fifty and slows down if it goes below fifty," Itachi adds.

"You noticed it as well, right? Using our Sharingan takes a lot of chakra, but at the same time, I can feel the absorption slowing down drastically in order for our body's replenishing rate to accelerate to fifty," Izumi says.

They remain quiet for several moments, testing their hypothesis and confirming it as their chakra percentage reaches fifty. At the mark, they can feel the increasing level of absorption in the atmosphere.

"What do you think it is?"

Izumi is looking troubled again.

"I don't know, but let's keep going. We can turn back if it is too dangerous," Itachi answers.

They climb another quarter way until the muddy trail transpires and disappears into a small gap between the rocks.

"The map says to use five percent chakra on either side," Izumi explains.

She looks to Itachi suspiciously.

"Show me your training here," he replies.

He gives an encouraging smile before Izumi gives a brief nod of acknowledgement.

Together, they comply as instructed, watching the opening crumble to a pile of dustless sand.

"After you," Izumi grins.

"Stay close," Itachi says.

Though the darkness sits heavy with an uncanny air, their journey through is remarkably short. On the other end, the same muddy trail leads to a set of steep, decaying stairs. Within the dismal atmosphere, the pungent stench of rotting vegetation and something that smells dubiously like blood lingers unsavourily in their noses.

At the top of the stairs, the outside world beckons, albeit darkness is beginning to settle.

"Itachi, is this…"

"Yes, this is Cascades Mountain."

"We left this morning and it has only been several hours, why is it getting dark so soon?" Izumi says waveringly.

She shuffles close, peering prudently over Itachi's shoulder at the darkening skies.

"Stay close," and he leads the way.

The map indicates another mile's hike, the ascent, again turning steep with the permeation of narrow paths and crumbling rocks.

But as ninjas, they are careful, treading attentively whilst maintaining a high degree of vigilance.

Through the darkness, with the moon as their only source of light, they reach halfway point.

The weather does not spare them. Winds accelerate in speed with every step, until they are forced to use their chakras to maintain a firm grasp on land.

And the closer the destination, the more ferocious the elements.

Rain begins in light scatters, gradually falling in rapid successions before increasing in intensity and frequency as it joins force with the wind.

The map indicates a cave as their destination; its description states " _the small crumbling one._ " Yet before them sits several large caves and two small dilapidated ones.

"Which one?" Izumi cries.

At first thought, Itachi almost disproves her question, but when he surveys close, the two smaller caves have cracked and crumbled - perhaps under relentless brutal elements.

"Let's try-"

But his words are swallowed by the sounds of howling wind and thundering droplets.

Without thinking and acting on pure intuition, he takes Izumi's hand and drags her forward, missing a giant tumbling boulder that is rolling merrily downhill and passing the spot they were in just seconds ago.

Horrified, they forge ahead, slipping and sliding against the wet grounds as their chakra fights to hold them against nature's rage.

Selecting one of the two small caves at random, they make for shelter - cold, breathless and drenched from the sudden impact of the mountain's bizarre weather.

Itachi does not take time to digest their new environment. Izumi's sudden hitch in breathing catches his attention.

"Izumi, are you okay?"

"Itachi…I-Itachi…"

Her voice is fearful, chillingly pitched to sound like gasps.

And though they are shrouded in blackness, the moon's light, peering from a small gap within the angry clouds, has seeped into the cave's entrance and lightly illuminating Izumi's petrified expression.

She is looking at something to Itachi's left, an area not close enough to be in his line of sight.

"Itachi…w-what is that?"


	33. Comfort

Exhaustion is a severe understatement. Physical and mental tiredness is separated into its own categories when measuring how fatigued someone is. But the combining components of both often brings forth a sensation of weariness that cannot be described.

At least, this is what Honoka thinks.

Her body is worn, severely used as punishment for her disobedience and rebel against Root. But her conscious is unusually blank, despite the mental strain of recent events.

Bruised, battered and alone, she leaves the lodge in discontentment. A flurry of thoughts follow her to the alleyway's end, murmuring words of disproval as she forcibly leaves a malicious Mizuku-sama to his sleep. She will pay for it, she knows, but the punishment she gets would not outrank the consequences she had for her recent wrongdoing.

Her actions may have turned out for the better, considering the night's chilling atmosphere. Its coldness is a deterrent to her deleterious mindset, abolishing the physical feelings of brutality that resides deep in her middle.

The stilled darkness may be unsettling, but it provides a thin veil of comfort only her mind can appreciate.

By the training grounds, there is only one person at practice.

Honoka watches him for a long time. The accuracy of his aim and the perfection of his movements epitomise that of a true prodigy. Yet the humbleness he exhibits begin with the subtleness of his discreet training.

When the world is not watching and the darkness of the night shields his visibility, Shisui showcases a spectacular display of sheer power. Despite her civilian status, Honoka can sense the differing levels of chakra. Shisui's is that soundless energy that evokes a haunting aura of enigmatic strength. Yet the gentleness is so strongly congruent with his personality, the intense power is easily overlooked.

As much as Honoka is desperate in her attempts to detach her mind from him, she is finding it difficult. Her understanding of such feelings continue to plague her, and a part of her wonders whether it is some sort of ninjutsu that is causing such cumbersome emotions.

Even as she stands and relishes in his presence, it is not enough to satisfy the discomforting feeling of constriction in her chest. But as Shisui gradually slows in his movements, Honoka's curiosity piques. She remains relatively still, surveying the situation before closing the distance between them as Shisui collapses to the ground.

Whether he falls from exhaustion or some other matter, Honoka's level of caution heightens.

"Excuse me, Shisui?" She says tentatively.

No answer.

Perhaps he did not hear her?

Their surrounding is too dark for a glimpse of his unconscious face.

At this point, Honoka kneels beside him and watches curiously for several minutes. She anticipates a sudden recoil, a startled reaction to her hovering presence. But Shisui remains disconcertingly still.

When she reaches for him, the radiating heat singes.

Without thinking, she disappears into the night, her mind crowded with anxiety and the prospect of Shisui's deteriorating health.

x

Returning at surprising speed, ten minutes have gone before Honoka is faced with an unusual conundrum. She is no doctor nor a medical specialist, but she is a toxicologist. Her specialty lies in understanding the fascinating world of chemicals and their interactions with mammalian cells. Albeit her work and level of understanding extends only to compounds in test tubes, not the human body.

In that case, she must risk it on trial and error.

" _If the person is unwell and unresponsive to any form of stimulation, take them to a hospital immediately,_ " Honoka reads.

She pauses.

"That won't do," she frowns and throws _Sickness and Health: Encyclopaedia_ to the side.

Her colleagues enjoy loitering around the hospital at this hour, particularly during their night time shifts. Honoka cannot risk being seen, not when Shisui is involved.

" _Carefully measure their temperature. If you do not have the appropriate tools, place your hand on the person's forehead and the other on yours. This will give you a rough comparison (*please note, this won't work if you both have a fever!)._ "

She stares wildly at Shisui's forehead protector, an object that warrants careful thought, considering its sentimental value in the ninja world. But she is unsure if her impending action is a cause for disrespect.

Honoka has learnt to minimise her reliance on information she believe to be socially appropriate, because most times, it is not.

"There is nothing in here that says anything of ninjas," she speaks thoughtfully.

For the sake of Shisui's health, Honoka decides against her pondering mind. She removes the protector.

True to the book, she can feel the differing temperatures between them, her forehead significantly cooler than Shisui's searing skin. Untrue to such information is the rapid drop in heat and the sudden changes within the space of several seconds.

Even with Honoka's hand still placed timidly against Shisui's forehead, she can feel the evaporation of heat and the settling of chilling, cold sweat.

Frantic, she swiftly churns through the pages, the torch light rocking dangerously on her knees as her body precariously balances the object against heavy movement.

"Hello Shisui?" She says anxiously.

She continues to shake him, hopeful for a response. As he continues to remain unresponsive, the unease disseminates against her in rapid successions.

Against her mind's persistent protest and the fear that accompanies uncertainty, she decides to take him to the hospital.

Expectation, however, is vastly different from reality. Assisting someone may be one thing, but attempts at dragging dead weight is another.

Honoka tries. Her small form struggling to even pull Shisui to a sitting position.

 _He is so heavy…_

"Pardon my intrusion, Shisui, but I believe it is not good for you to stay here. I think it is pragmatic that you seek medical treatment," she breathes.

The comment passes through his unconscious body and nonchalantly into the cold air. He remains as lifeless as ever.

Honoka is seldom frustrated, yet she feels a rising level of vexation and discouragement swelling from the depths of her chest.

Her attempts at even moving Shisui an inch from his sitting position proves futile. She does not have the strength nor the stamina to push forward. The apprehension of what her colleagues may do if she is seen with an unconscious Shisui has now intermixed ferociously with the desperation to help him. The internal battle weakens her, and as time passes, she ends up collapsing in exhaustion.

"Why can I not do anything?" She whispers despondently.

Even as she lies there, the helplessness sinks through with remarkable ease.

It is rare that she finds herself unable to solve difficult and complex problems. Within the laboratory, the solution sits within several formulas away from an answer.

There will always be academic books to back her. But in this situation, she has the books, yet no equipment, no physical strength.

Pressed dismally against the cool patch of grass, she stares mindlessly at the scattered books around her. Even with this much information, she still cannot help someone in need. Perhaps she never thought of ever needing to provide assistance? She has always done things on her own, completing her duties on order rather then out of her own free will. But the urge to protect is so strong, the uncomfortable, alien-like feeling resurfaces. However, this time in a different form. It may be traces of grief or dread. Either way, she does not recognise such emotions, and the more she is in Shisui's presence, the more she is exposed to these unaccustomed feelings.

" _When in dire circumstances, keep the person warm - ensuring that you do not overheat them by putting too many layers,_ " she reads quietly.

The books are opened before her, and it may be the wind, or the position of the moon, but it is almost a coincidence that she is reading and absorbing that particular sentence in her current state.

With very little strength left, she gives it one last try. This time, she successfully moves Shisui towards the tree and rests him against the thickened trunk.

"I did it," she murmurs breathlessly.

Then, out of pure desire to shelter him from the elements, she embraces him, albeit tentatively, until gravity drags his upper body towards her and he is reposing heavily against her chest.

Initially unsettled, Honoka relents to the uncertain situation. This is the first in so long she has been this close to Shisui, she has almost forgotten what it felt like to have him around.

The feeling is an unfathomable aura of placidity that plagues her insides. His warmth is like a disconnected sense of security, as if she is relishing in something she does not deserve or cheated her way through a complex problem. Her pride sits deeply with the latter. She views her circumstance with Shisui as an unsolvable, impractical problem. A problem is either solved or left unsolved. Never cheated.

The elements remain unchanged for most the night, synchronising perfectly with the two people resting by the training grounds.

Honoka never wishes to remove herself from the selfish comfort of her situation. Shisui may be showing signs of recovery, but Honoka is reluctant to release him from her hold.

Unconsciously, her body leans possessively into him, as if afraid her mind will suddenly deceive and deprive her of this contact.

She does not fully understand the strange sensation that accompanies the conflicting thoughts of guilt and comfort. The confusion suffuses her, keeping her awake in a pool of unease as she continues to struggle ferociously with the internal battle.

And it is only when Shisui suddenly stirs and unconsciously readjusts that Honoka breaks from her mental trance.

The rigidity in his posture dissolves, a sure indicator that he is now asleep rather than unconscious.

And though relief settles, there is that liquifying aggressive sensation of fear and dread, hovering ever so passively, _closely_.

Whether Honoka is too socially inept to make sense of these feelings, or whether she refuses to acknowledge its presence, her attachment to Shisui runs dangerously deep.

No matter how much she forces herself to remove his existence from her mind, the brief kindness and acceptance she received from him is more than enough to risk a lifetime's worth of her sanity.


	34. Fear

There is a deep intrusive sensation that cuts wildly at his core. The culprit is the sudden radiating emotions of fear and trepidation that engulfs Izumi's pale visage. He vaguely recalls her disembodied voice. The darkness of this cavern had earlier swallowed their physicality - spare the sounds of their words that echoed cautiously against the insidious emptiness.

But the moon's ray illuminates, like the sudden flick of a light switch. Itachi cannot disengage the stricken look of despair that is lingering across Izumi's features. She is staring frantically at something behind him, yet when he tracks her gaze, the vacantness is as vast as ever.

"Izumi."

His voice is oddly tentative, as if a part of him has disconnected itself from the composed portion of his mind. The other section is perhaps assimilating the fear that is so flagrant within their surroundings.

Izumi does not respond to Itachi's calling, and even when he stands before her with both hands gripping either side of her shoulders, the terror laden, detached expression does not falter.

Though Itachi cannot fathom Izumi's consternation, instinct pushes him for the quickest escape route. Without further contemplation, he drags her towards a deeper opening that runs parallel to the now very distant entrance.

The air turns thick with every step. Even the ground is unusually soft, and by the time they stop out of exhaustion, their lungs have opened to full capacity, greedy for every molecule of oxygen.

Out of his pocket, Itachi extracts a match and candle, illuminating the cold darkened tunnel and exposing its very musty surroundings. There is little space between them, a claustrophobic expanse that stretches narrowly into the blackness.

Izumi continues to stare wearily over her shoulder, a hint of pastiness that strongly aligns with a person on their deathbed.

"Izumi, can you hear me?"

He steps closer and peers at her, watching her erratic gaze as it slowly locks with his. Then, she lets out a blood-curdling screech that penetrates past his skin and sinks maliciously into his bones.

Hysterical with unseen agony, Izumi digs her fingers into her hair, pressing the palms of her hand against her skull with such tremendous force, her upper body heaves forward and she is expelling a mouthful of black liquid.

"Izumi! Izumi!"

Itachi's loud voice does little with her attention. At that very moment, he feels the radiating unease coming from her body, his Sharingan now picking up the abnormality in her chakra that is being stirred by an invisible force.

"Izumi, look at me, stay with me!"

With minimal time and limited understanding, Itachi makes a last ditch attempt to regain Izumi's conscious. He holds her face and pulls her mind into a deep genjutsu.

For several seconds, she remains disturbingly still, then her shoulders relax and her stiffen body loosens under his firm grip. And just like the soft flow of gentle water, her chakra stabilises and she falls unconscious into him, her breathing slow and mild.

x

Izumi does not wake for several hours. Despite the gentleness she exhibits whilst in the unconscious world, her waking profoundly contrasts.

With a sudden frantic yelp, she sits upright, releasing the heaviness of her head that has been resting uneasily against Itachi's shoulder.

"Izumi," he says firmly.

Two sets of candles continue to exude a warm light to their surroundings, albeit they sway dangerously at Izumi's sudden movement.

She gazes steadily at the jagged rocks of the cavern walls before acknowledging Itachi's presence.

Though her body is composed, she is looking puzzled, a hint of anxiety gracing her as she faces him.

"Itachi."

Her voice trembles weakly, as if every ounce of energy has been used to speak his name.

Her eyes have suddenly filled itself with the gushes of tears, its droplets sliding uncomfortably from her face and onto the sandy grounds.

"D-Did you see?" She whispers.

There is a look of horror that inundates, her watch turning upwards before darting frantically from left to right.

"No. Izumi, what is it?" He asks quietly.

She shakes her head, perhaps as an attempt to thrust the distressing thoughts from her mind.

"I saw things…t-terrible things…and I…"

She inhales sharply before gripping her knees with more force than necessary.

"I…I…"

Her stutter steadily worsens, until Itachi takes her hands and encloses them in his.

"Don't force yourself to remember, I don't think what you saw is something that needs to be re-told," Itachi says.

Izumi is looking slightly mollified at his comment, yet her watch is now fixated on his hold.

"I do not like being afraid, but the more I feel fear, the bigger it becomes. It is like an uncontrollable fear that grows in aggression the more I fight it," she says brokenly.

The context of her fears may differ, but her words and the accompanying feelings of apprehension resonates strongly within his core. Fear has always been a feature he can objectify and conquer, yet they have only been things that he, as an individual, could handle.

"If this was a perfect world, we could all learn to fight and conquer our own fears. But I feel that not all fears can be necessarily conquered," Itachi pauses and stares dismally at the empty blackness that is the darkened path to the underground. "Some fears have that untold advantage, so the closest victory you can ever get with those types of fears is to walk beside them."

Izumi stares idly at the ground, a perplexed expression embedded in the furrows of her frown.

"I am scared I won't keep up," she whispers shakily.

At her words, the deep foreign feelings he has suppressed re-engages with a jolt of warranted desire. It morphs into an emotional protective barrier that manifests in the firm hold he has on Izumi's face.

"It's okay, Izumi. I will walk with you so you don't fall behind."


	35. Apologise

Shisui's condition takes a turn for the worst. Even as Honoka remains in a deep slumber, the hold she has on him is remarkably possessive. And despite the unconscious resistance, the sudden tenacious grip, followed by the blunt force of being thrown viciously against the muddy grounds, is more than enough to activate survival mode.

"Get away from him!"

The shout is threatening, highly familiar, and belongs to a woman she wishes to never associate.

Tsubaki is glaring with such hostility, Honoka can almost feel the chilling hatred that creeps against her skin. Beside her stands Yuki, who is watching a very disconcerted Nanami attend to the still comatose Shisui.

He is unusually pale, covered in thin sallow lines and darkened patches. There is a thick layer of sweat, intermixed with a peculiar grey oily substance that has seeped through and suffused his clothes.

As Honoka scans her surroundings, there are more people watching from the sides, mostly village jounins, who are glancing nervously between Nanami and Shisui.

Some, however, peer suspiciously in Honoka's direction, confounded.

"Quickly, he needs the hospital, the poison has spread to his lungs," Nanami says urgently.

Her voice trembles with every spoken word, albeit she is exceptionally compose with the firm command she gives the jounins.

"Excuse me, what has happened to Shisui? May I ask whether he will be okay?" Honoka asks uncertainly.

To her own unsettlement, she feels the quiver in her voice, the fear and concern afflicting her body before her mind can register the gravity of the situation.

At Honoka's question, Yuki sends her a furious look of disgust before trudging after Nanami, who is staring determinedly ahead.

Tsubaki, however, decides to provide an answer to her query.

"You dirty slut, how dare you put your hands on him," she hisses angrily, "if he dies, it will be your fault you selfish bitch."

x

"The best solution to Tulips poisoning is to dilute one part gold berry juice with three part water. When heating do not allow the liquid to boil…"

"It may take two weeks for this concoction to work. It is important to let the ingredients dry in the sun for at least two days before submerging it in honey water…"

But the more Honoka reads, the less she understands. Despite her adeptness at following instructions, the complexity of these recipes have greatly impeded her productivity.

Nevertheless, she has little time to spare, considering Shisui's deteriorating ailment.

It took Honoka several attempts over the past few days to get Shisui's diagnosis. Her luck may be non-existent in the long run, but the small window of opportunity eventually transpired.

Perhaps it was the Third Hokage's presence that distracted Shisui's 'bodyguards' - namely Yuki, Tsubaki and to a much lesser extent, Nanami. But Honoka was able to catch a glimpse of their conversation behind the back sliding doors that connected to Shisui's room.

"What is the diagnosis?" The Third had asked.

From Honoka's end, the Hokage presented with passive unease beneath a composed demeanour.

"Tulips poisoning," Yuki said, and Nanami lets out a restive breath at her comment, "Hokage-sama, any idea how this could have happened?" she continued.

"Tulips poison is a man-made poison is it not?" Tsubaki asked perplexingly.

Honoka twitched at the comment. A bad habit, particularly when the topic pertained to her area of speciality. She found it incredibly difficult to hold back, yet the idea of them discovering her only hiding position was more than enough to suppress those undesirable urges.

"Yes. It is extremely rare, so I suspect he may have been poisoned during a recent mission. The success of it relies on its odourless and slow spreading mechanism. It is non-lethal in the short period, aimed at weakening the enemy," the Hokage explained.

At every word, Honoka nodded automatically in agreement, yet given Shisui's current state, the poison was not very well made. Its potency was much weaker than she initially anticipated. If she had some medical knowledge, she would have been able to identify the poison right then and there when she found Shisui.

But again, her expertise only extends to chemical compounds within test tubes, and perhaps identifying, dissecting, creating and destroying poisons and toxic substances would be more of an accurate depiction of her specialty.

Honoka did not wait for the completion of their conversation. She retrieved the information she wanted. The medical staff, under orders from 'the bodyguards,' had specifically been instructed to preclude her from visiting and obtaining any details relating to Shisui's prognosis.

Regardless, Honoka's level of independence and ability to map out the entire hospital layout meant that they have greatly underestimated her. Their lax surveillance meant Honoka was able to visit Shisui during non-visit hours.

Presently, she continues to stare haphazardly into a pile of food books that give instructions for recovery from Tulips poisoning.

However, the work proves futile.

Tulips poisoning is man-made, immensely rare and created only in the past twenty years. This would mean information relating to its properties and antidotes are exceedingly minimal.

Thirty minutes later and Honoka returns to the health food stall. It is owned and operated by the elderly woman, Sayaka.

The shopfront, though small and inconspicuous amongst the many larger market stalls, attract a fair amount of customers, particularly medical ninjas.

"You have returned," Sayaka says cheerfully.

"Yes, as I require supplies that can only be purchased at this store," Honoka answers.

Despite her blunt comment, Sayaka does not seem too perturbed, albeit several customers send reproachful glances in Honoka's direction.

"If you tell me what you need, you will be on your way at twice the speed," Sayaka says.

It may be a metaphor or a figure of speech, but Honoka is still having difficulties deciphering what constitutes as literal.

"I believe my maximum speed cannot be increased by locating the desired items. Speed is determined by the body's capabilities-"

"Honoka, what is it that you need?" Sayaka interrupts firmly.

Confused, Honoka hands her the list.

"Ah, I have all of these, however I am running very low on golden sugar. Perhaps you can try substituting it for light sugars? They taste very similar."

Honoka shakes her head.

"The recipe book dictates that every ingredient must be used, no substitutes. Regardless, I still do not understand the significance of utilising substitutes. The purity of the end result is determined by the correct, exact ingredient or substance. A substitute is essentially a counterfeit. Therefore, I believe the use of such things would damage the authenticity and purpose of the overall product."

She speaks frankly, a long monotonous lecture that is remarkably boring for something she is so passionate and opinionated about.

"Well, it seems convincing you otherwise would be a waste of both our times. Perhaps it is best you reduce the quantity of your recipe if you really want to utilise the golden sugar. It has been very popular lately."

When Honoka remains silent, Sayaka continues.

"You are getting a lot of different ingredients, are you having some sort of party?"

At her comment, Honoka stares wildly. The puzzlement borders displeasure, until the silence transforms into a host of awkward tension.

"Party? A party requires many people. I do not associate with many people. Tulips poisoning is rare, thus recipes for accelerated healing are even rarer. A trial and error with...let's see," she hesitates before pulling out a notepad from her pocket, "six different recipes would perhaps assist me in determining the best outcome."

She expects judgement of some sorts, but surprisingly, Sayaka softens.

"You are doing this for someone you care about," she says kindly.

"That is correct, according to the definition of caring, it is that desire and that provision to give what is needed in order to maintain someone's health and welfare. I have analysed these feelings of desire and deciphered it against the dictionary where the definition 'caring' is concerned. As per my analyses, I have come to the conclusion that I meet these criteria, despite the termination of our friendship contract."

Honoka stares dully at the ground. Perhaps it was best that they are no longer friends. She feels entirely to blame for putting Shisui in his current state. Had she not been afraid, she would have called for someone sooner.

But the underlying dread and despondency that occupies her mind since the incident is the selfish act for the very brief benefit of her own satisfaction. The very same desire that resulted in dire consequences for the person she cares most about.

"You are still going out of your way to help this person are you not? Whoever it is must be very important to you," Sayaka says.

Honoka frowns.

"Shisui never provided an explanation for terminating our friendship, thus I am unsure what to make of it. I do not know whether the lack of a reason has allowed me to bypass the act of overlooking his needs. Within a friendship, caring for one another is pivotal and despite us not being friends anymore, I have been unable to stop this desire to help and assist him."

Sayaka remains silent, choosing to gaze steadily out the window for several seconds before replying.

"Your desire to protect him is strong," she eventually says.

At her response, Shisui's definition of love echoes fondly in the recess of Honoka's body - the ideology of protecting the person you love encompasses their continued existence and happiness. Yet somehow, with an unpleasant pull to reality, this did not translate into her actions.

"My actions may warrant such definitions now, but I believe it does not in the past."

When Sayaka moves close, Honoka anticipates being chastise. But there is a look of appreciation and something unfamiliar reflected in Sayaka's features.

"Regardless of what the past may be, what is most important is your continued desire to protect the person you love."

Sayaka speaks as if she is aware of Honoka's internal calamity, or the recent events that have etched painfully to her skin.

"I am unsure," Honoka mumbles.

When Sayaka disappears momentarily and returns with a small pouch of golden sugar, she does not speak until Honoka accepts the item from her.

"It is okay to be unsure of your feelings," she pauses, her face contorting into an inexplicable expression, "what is not okay is to _deny_ them."

For a transient moment, they remain silent, as if capturing those words from the air and assembling them in order of comprehension.

"I see. Well if that is the case, I will accept that explanation."

x

The completion of two differing recipes occur three days later. Honoka decides on two of the available six.

When night falls, Honoka vigilantly watches time, careful not to miss her opportunity for visits when the hospital closes its wards to outsiders.

As a worker in the upper levels, she is still able to gain access to the other floors with her security pass, however, she has never thought to abuse her position.

In the past week since Shisui's hospitalisation, Honoka was only able to visit him three times, twice illegally through non-visit hours, whilst the other hiding behind the back sliding doors.

Even during her actual visits, the quality time was not well utilised. She spent most of her time analysing and observing the medical staff to determine how much time she had left.

But on this occasion, things will be different.

According to her investigation, the maximum period she gets between the start of non-visitor hours and the first medical check, is an hour. Entering and leaving the hospital with utmost discretion takes about thirty minutes of her time. This would leave her only a thirty minute window.

As per usual, the hospital is deserted at this hour, with the exception of medical staff who are periodically checking in on each patient.

There are also medical ninjas and researchers prowling the corridors, completing late night reports or attending important mission-specific meetings.

Since her rebuke by Danzo-sama, Honoka has not been allowed back in the hospital laboratory, with the exception of early mornings two days a week. Danzo-sama did not specify the reason for cutting her hours, however, she is still awaiting word of her newly assigned mission.

In the meantime, she spends most days reading in the library or working on recipes that she hopes would aid in Shisui's recovery.

The patient wards are all located on the first five floors of the hospital, with Shisui's room inconveniently located at the very end of the fifth corridor.

The room is small yet empty, with the exception of Shisui's bed and bedside table, which is strewn with flowers of all shapes, sizes and colours.

It is gently lit by a single warm bulb, illuminating only a small section of the room and casting large shadows that extends infinitely out the door and into the hallway.

There is a slight opening through the small window, framed by white linen curtains and dotted with patches of disinfectant. A soft breeze ambles through the gap, freshening the dreary sterile-like air with the coolness of nature's elements.

By the window at the far end of the room is Shisui, who is still unconscious, albeit slightly relaxed.

Even when poison affected, he appears peaceful and composed.

Someone, a nurse perhaps, has folded the blanket so that it sits neatly halfway on his torso, his arms resting gently on either side.

To Honoka, it is like observing a spectacular display. The only indicator that he is hospitalised is perhaps the few tubes that are intravenously connected to his arms.

When Honoka takes a seat, she decides to watch him for a long time. She forgets the warm feeling that is specific to his presence. The safety he exudes carries further than just physical comfort. Perhaps her mind is relishing in the security or the emotional stability Shisui brings.

"Um…excuse me Shisui," she says tentatively.

Her gaze tracks the gentle rise and fall of his breathing, as if watching for any noticeable signs that he may have heard her.

Without speaking, she continues to sit there, nervously fidgeting with her skirts and drifting absent-mindedly to one of their many matches.

When it came to chess, Shisui and Honoka are equally on par. The game has ignited a fierce and passionate rivalry between them - elements responsible for closing that awkward social distance from the very beginning.

But the more Honoka recalls, the more she feels the insufferable pain.

Even after all she has read, heard and experienced, she still cannot figure out the origins of such ailment. She knows its connection with Shisui, but there are also contradicting feelings of happiness associated with him. The confusion tears at her, and as she delves deeper, her ability to discern becomes a spiralling lightless hole that will never illuminate.

"E-Excuse me, Shisui," she says again, "I would like to sincerely apologise to you, for not assisting you when you were in need."

Then, she remains silent, unsure of her actions and the futile words she spoke.

Inattentively, she takes his hand and observes the roughen lines and raised scars. Comparatively to hers, his has seen many battles, felt many emotions - fear, anger, despondency.

But there is also a peculiar sense to it, as if they had held onto compassion, and kindness, all within the nucleus of a merciless war.

Honoka may have wandered in the midst of sentimentality, but the line between reality and another realm becomes increasingly blurred.

Perhaps it is the comfort, and the warmth of Shisui's hand, but her vision falls sweetly in and out of focus. Her body collapses forward, unaware of the ongoing progress that is existence - ten minutes, twenty-minutes…thirty…

Only the instinctive feel of movement rouses her, until she meets Shisui's gaze, who is watching mellowly whilst gripping her hand in reciprocation.

When Honoka stares back in tearful relief, Shisui gives her a small reticent smile she has never observed before.

"Honoka," he says quietly, and she is leaning forwards in earnest, "Time's up."

The sudden jolt is reminiscent of being pulled forward with immense force.

Shisui is still lying unconscious in the same peaceful position, as if he has not moved an inch.

Then, Honoka hears it. Approaching footsteps.

Frantic, she swiftly departs for the hallway, confusion permeating her mind and inundating her emotions.

She disappears behind the ward doors just as two nurses and a medical ninja enter Shisui's room.

Though it may have been a dream, it felt _real_ \- that Shisui was really awake, speaking to her and acknowledging her presence.

If only she were blessed to have dreams of this every night, then perhaps her lonely reality would be far from unpleasant.


	36. Chakra

One hour passes in a whirlwind of fragmented memories. They are blurred and oddly surrealistic, but Izumi's consciousness does not heed to the discomfiting contents.

She stays close to her companion, who is paving through an increasingly claustrophobic tunnel.

They speak little, only whispering directions when the cavern morphs into multiple directions. The temperature remains cool despite their descending further underground.

When they reach a dead end, Itachi raises the candle so the light illuminates and floods the ceiling. But it is not the cavern roof. Above is a small dark opening that indicates their need to ascend.

He peruses the map for several moments before his gaze returns to the ceiling. There is a strong air of mistrust and lingering suspicion that surrounds Itachi, but Izumi is in no condition to question.

"Can you?" Itachi asks.

His face is submersed in a pool of concern, yet Izumi gets the strange sensation that only she can read these emotions in such depth.

"I'll follow," she answers.

Without speaking, he begins the ascent, closely followed by Izumi and perhaps something else that may have been her imagination. The feeling is momentary but there is a warmth swathing back and forth from beneath as she struggles to climb that very narrow and very steep passage.

At the top, Itachi reaches for her, his grip more forceful than necessary. When she is safely beside him, he does not let go of her hand for some time after.

"Your hand is warm," he says quietly.

Izumi returns the comment with confusion.

"So is yours."

At her words, he stares with silent disconcertment, until the sounds of falling sand breaks his reverie.

"Let's go," he says mildly.

They do not speak for the next half hour, their minds fixed on navigation and peeling back the layers of thick darkness. The atmosphere turns abnormally cold, yet a discomfiting sensation is resonating deeply in the pits of Izumi's stomach. The haunting chill has nothing to do with the temperature.

Ahead, Itachi is seemingly fixated on something in front. Izumi does not probe, instead she keeps to the shadows of her conscious - a safety net where nothing can hurt her.  
The fear may be imminent, but she does not know of its content. She may have disconnected from those memories, but her emotions remain intact. She does not know what she is afraid of.

When Itachi halts, Izumi is already so consumed within the recess of her muse, she does not realise the collision of her body against something.

"Is everything okay?"

Itachi's voice brings her to the present, albeit very slowly.

At Izumi's realisation, her shoulder is pressed firmly against his arm, as if she had attempted to walk through him.

Without answering his question, she turns her attention to something ahead.

There is a small opening in the cavern walls that appear man-made. Izumi cannot see, but she can feel the aura.

"In there," she says quietly.

She takes off before Itachi can speak.

Somehow she can sense a heightening level of apprehension radiating from his presence as he trails her.

The opening leads them through to a large chamber with long stone benches positioned in a circular pattern that surrounds a large stand. Above is the night sky.

"Are we not underground?" Izumi pants.

She is struggling to breathe in this very suffocating dungeon.

"Yes," Itachi says absently.

He is strangely preoccupied with the sky and the millions of stars that dot the velvet canvas.

The aura she felt earlier has intensified tenfolds, yet she remains unclear of its origin. It gives her the sensation of being liquified and detached, as if her body and soul is going through a dismantling process. But as gruesome as words make it, the feeling is far from grisly. A part of her is oddly free, brave enough to conquer the worst or the most humiliating.

No guilt, no repercussions.

But the aura is transient. It comes as quick as it goes, with no set time or amount.

And then comes the strange gnawing sensation. A physical manifestation of something scratching her insides. As if her body is compressed into one tiny box, she struggles to inhale air.

With one uncomfortable push from something invisible, her body heaves forward and she expels a black liquid from her mouth. The substance falls to the ground with flowing ease, embedding itself into the hard sand and dissipating with a silent sizzling motion.

On Itachi's end, he seems not to notice. The event on Izumi's side occurred faster than she can process, and within seconds, she has already dismissed it from her mind.

"Izumi, take a look at this," Itachi calls.

He is standing abnormally still before a small curved unimposing mound. When Izumi is peering over his shoulder, she sees nothing but a blank roughen stone. As if anticipating her inquiry, Itachi speaks.

"Turn on your Sharingan."

And when she complies, the strange symbols materialise.

Its familiarity draws her conscious back to the earlier days of her Council's Mission workshop training. Though she never for life of her understood why there was such a need to learn such needless ancient symbols, she is now glad for its use.

"These are ancient symbols used specifically to depict instructions for a sacrifice," Izumi says, "I never thought these symbols exist nowadays," she continues anxiously.

"They don't," Itachi answers, "we are probably in some sort of sacrificial chamber that was used thousands of years ago."

Without thinking, Izumi reads aloud.

 _"There is one universal form of chakra divided amongst separate domains of actuality. No two planes may exist synchronously within the same axis; for chakra of one existence, though equivalent to the entity it resides in, is a disparate reality. The ultimate cause of collision between two or more niche existence…"_

She pauses. Though her Sharingan is focused on the next line, she cannot comprehend its meaning despite the familiarity of the symbols.

"We cannot read the next few lines," Itachi says ruefully.

Izumi gazes interestedly in his direction, and without his explanation, she seems to understand his message through those deep red eyes.

"Shisui is the only one I know who is most likely able to read those broken lines," Izumi says softly.

They remain silent for several seconds before returning to the next few lines. Towards the lower half of the stone, they can make out another sentence.

 _"…the violation [is] held in the eyes that reflect the heart; one bloodline…"_

The words in her mind remain in a series of unsystematic positions. Though the language is clear, she can barely make sense of it.

On Itachi's side, there seems to be a monumental amount of calculations and futile attempts at comprehension. However, Izumi is surprised when his features morph into some form of realisation that is graced by a wisp of discontentment.

"Izumi, what comes to mind when you hear the sentence, separate domains of actuality?" He asks solemnly.

"Different areas of…" she hesitates with a sudden wave of sickening dread, "…existence."

"Mm."

Then, the floating pieces of information fall slowly into a convoluted, yet partially understandable sentence.

"No two planes may exist synchronously within the same axis…that would mean…"

"Multiple universes do exist based on one singular existence of chakra split towards different existences," Itachi continues.

"But the universes are separate from each other and cannot be accessed because they cannot exist within the one world," Izumi finishes.

She turns and scans the chamber, absorbing every minute details and arduously piecing the puzzle together.

"Are there more of us in other worlds?" Izumi wonders.

"Yes and no, if I am basing it off just this," Itachi says, "we exist in other worlds but we are not different, that is, we are one person originating from one chakra existence. Our chakra have been split to fit the multitude of other universes."

"But we cannot access them," Izumi replies impatiently.

At her comment, Itachi gazes curiously at her, as if subconsciously pushing her to revaluate her comment.

"A sacrificial chamber…you don't think they were trying to access the other worlds do you?" She says slowly.

Itachi shrugs.

"Who knows. There is only so much we can read and I believe that last sentence is talking about the Uchiha."

Izumi stares bleakly at the only other paragraph that can be discerned.

"Violation?"

But her question remains unanswered. Itachi is already moving towards another tunnel opening.

Without further attempts at comprehending, she follows after him.

Inside the unfamiliar space houses a stone basin - the one they were to look for and deposit the stones as their original mission.

Behind, Izumi watches in silent astonishment as the opening to the sacrificial chamber disappears in a distorted black swirl. The walls around the entire cavern is now smooth and undamaged. There is only one entry and exit ahead.

"We weren't supposed to have accessed that chamber," Itachi says suddenly.

His tone is quiet with an element of contemplation.

"How did we get in there?" Izumi asks.

She watches as Itachi places the stone in the basin before turning for the cave exit.

"We followed the path on the map correctly. Could it be that man deliberately gave us the wrong directions and-"

"No," Itachi interjects.

He turns to face the blank walls of the cavern - the exact place where they exited from the sacrificial chamber.

"I get the feeling this place knew we were here and offered us to see that place. This cave here," he gestures toward their current standing spot, "is easily accessible and most ninjas could get here without any trouble provided they followed the map's instructions. Yet for us, this place has a history it seems only those of Uchiha blood can sense. I don't know what it is but it may be best to steer clear of it."

They exit the cave in brooding silence. In the outside world, they are back where they began - behind the waterfall. And just like Itachi's explanation, the cave's opening towards the stone basin was an easy entry.

"This opening wasn't here when we entered earlier," Izumi says sceptically.

When she looks up, there is an air of surprise that knots at her core. The entire cavern walls are smooth and undamaged.

'Could it be an illusion?" She says aloud.

"I do not know," Itachi answers, "but we should leave. It is getting dark."

And though Izumi may have an uncanny ability to decipher Itachi's stoic emotions, there is a forceful aura she cannot understand when he speaks of departing. Perhaps this area is sending a host of signals that play into her paranoia, but she senses another element of information he is keeping silent.


	37. Repercussions

"We got here as soon as we heard of your predicament."

Izumi's voice is half earnest, half relieved.

It has been twenty-five hours since Shisui regained consciousness. And in the early hours of the morning, the hospital is already ablaze with a hoard of activity. On his end of the corridor, however, the quietude is unusual.

"Your recovery is of utmost priority, so it sounds like they are trying to keep the activity level down to a minimum on this end," Itachi says.

Shisui frowns.

"I do not think my recovery should be prioritised over the recovery of others. That is hardly fair."

He gazes dispiritedly out the window. Vague as his memories are of prior events, his mind has been inundated with pained feelings that are disconnected from reality. There are subtle references of a black ditch and cries of villagers, yet the boundaries between false imagery and repressed memories have become increasingly blurred.

"This is unlike you to be poisoned," Izumi says frankly.

"Yes, I was not careful, but I am still human at the end of the day," he answers quietly.

The atmosphere turns morbidly tense. Perhaps there is the underlying expectation that someone of his 'calibre' should not have fallen prey to the simple notion of poison. But the more these entrenched expectations linger, the more he disapproves of his need to be overtly present.

He briefly glances in Itachi's direction, who has been watching him with an inexplicable expression. Though they do not exchange any significant form of communication, there is that indistinct aura that Itachi has a strong understanding of Shisui's position.

"I suppose they all knew you would be alright in the end. Most would not have made it through the way you have. Tulips poisoning isn't something that is taken lightly," Izumi says.

"I agree with that explanation."

Yuki's distinctive voice saunters through in cut like motion - firm and obstinate. Behind her is Nanami and Tsubaki, who are both staring wildly at Shisui's conscious presence as they enter his room.

"We all knew you would be okay," Tsubaki agrees.

Nanami does not speak. She nods timidly in agreement before turning away when he meets her gaze.

The comments, though with good intentions, does little to quell the discomfort within.

"Someone of prodigy status would never succumb to something so mediocre as poisoning, regardless of its lethality," Yuki says admiringly, and she glances in Nanami's direction for some form of acknowledgement.

"Because of status or prioritised treatment?" Shisui replies solemnly.

There is a passive indignation to his quiet tone that only Itachi seems to notice. Shisui dislikes the prodigy label, especially for its use to gain unwanted privileges.

"Shisui, how are you feeling?"

Nanami steps through between Yuki and Tsubaki, who clearly have been pushing her to speak with him directly. And it is also at this point that Shisui notices the clear similarities in appearances between Yuki and Tsubaki.

They are sisters.

"Doing much better, thanks for asking," he answers cheerfully.

Nanami gives a reticent smile that indicates her sudden comfort. And when Shisui reaches over and takes a round brown-white dotted sweet from the side table, Nanami's jovial expression falls.

"What is it that you are eating?" She asks warily.

He is already half way through when he realises her intention.

"Not sure, but it is good and I have been eating this since I woke up," he replies confoundedly.

"Oh you got it from the hospital here," Nanami says.

Her tone is unusually high pitched, an element of hopefulness that is strongly laced with strands of anxiety.

"It was here when I woke up, so maybe?"

"Shisui, maybe not eat that just in case," Nanami takes the plate from his side table, oblivious to the disapproving look on his face, "Here, I got these for you, they are much better than whatever those may be."

She places several dull looking dumpling-like food by his table before handing him one.

"What is it?"

"It's like red beans, but healthier, try it."

Despite its questionable appearance, Shisui does not mind the taste. There is a bitter flavour that may signify some sort of added medicinal herbs, yet the sweet-tanginess is a good balance to the unpleasant sharpness.

When he reaches for the second one, a sudden loud crash from across the room breaks his action.

"Excuse me, Shisui, but I do not believe it is healthy for you to consume that."

Honoka's monotonous voice ambles through from somewhere below. Shisui does not see her, but her sudden presence sends a disturbing sensation that permeates his core. As if conditioned to react, he automatically flinches in response.

When he leans over, Honoka steadily gets to her feet, a flicker of intense inscrutable emotions grazing her features as she stares blankly at the plate of food on the side bed. In her hand is half a tray full of the round brown-white spotted sweets - the rest scattered on the floor during her dramatic 'entry.'

"Where the hell did you come from?" Tsubaki shrieks.

She gives Honoka a detestable look before Yuki chimes in.

"Judging from where the cockroach is standing, and the enormous mess made, she's been skulking around near those back sliding doors this whole time."

Yuki gestures idly in Honoka's direction.

Behind sits an inconspicuous sliding door that is covered in unused medical equipment and spare bedding. No one would have noticed its use for concealment.

"I'm going to have a word with the medical staff. What kind of security is this? Who knows how long she's been here," Tsubaki says angrily.

"Get lost!" Yuki snarls at Honoka.

She advances forward, ignoring protests from both Nanami and Izumi.

Sensing danger, Honoka swiftly closes the distance between her and Shisui's bed. She does not meet his perplexed gaze as the half-filled tray of food is placed at the end of his bed.

"Shisui, these are very good for your recovery. I will make more to recover the lost ones," she says quickly.

With all the disturbance and imminent peril that surrounds her, Honoka is remarkably composed. But as she runs for the exit, there is a look of apprehension beneath her vacant expression.

In that moment, Shisui gets the vague sensation that Honoka may be terrified of her situation, though its temporary suppression may come from her interactions with him.

Yuki and Tsubaki have already disappeared, followed by Nanami, who is no doubt trying to abate the situation.

"I'll go too, this is getting ridiculous," Izumi says exasperatedly.

When she vanishes, the deafening yet alleviating silence suffuses.

Shisui's mind is still floating in the space of five minutes ago, his conscious refusing to accelerate to the present.

"I'm sorry you had to wake up to this," Itachi says ruefully.

"I'm sorry you even need to apologise," Shisui sighs.

When Itachi does not answer, Shisui continues.

"How did the mission go?"

His tone remains light, a forceful attempt to dismiss the recent commotion.

"Success but not without its own set of problems," Itachi replies.

Shisui laughs. A conversation with Itachi is always a starting point for normality in his world.

"Isn't that what makes it a mission?"

"You are not wrong there," Itachi agrees.

The underlying intention is clear from Itachi's comment - Shisui's most recent mission landed him in hospital for over a week.

"You should rest up," he continues.

"Itachi, before you leave, I need to let you know...your absence was a cause for suspicion," Shisui's tone is suddenly grave, and with it, the atmosphere turns disconcertingly bleak, "It may be best not to discuss this with Izumi," he finishes.

There is a shard of bemusement to Itachi's expression, yet an emotion that borderlines anger is covertly reflected.

"I see."

"I'm sorry to spring this on you, but it is something we will have to shelve for until later. This isn't the best place for it," Shisui says.

Itachi does not answer, and it may be that his mind has already removed itself from the outside world.

They let the quiet sit for several minutes.

"Shisui, I should let you rest. But before I go there is also something I would like to put forward as a suggestion," he hesitates before a determined expression transpires, "What goes on in your own private life is not my business, but Honoka's suffering may be unnecessary around you."

Shisui does not immediately process Itachi's explanation, but a small part of him seems to grasp that sentence with a strong presentiment. The puzzlement to his tone, however, is a clear indicator that his conscious has detached itself from that small intuitive part.

"What are you trying to say?" He asks.

Itachi remains silent, politely so for several seconds, yet his watch communicates a very different form of quietude.

"Of all the Uchihas, you have the strongest visual prowess, and with that, the ability to change a person's thought process. If Honoka forgets about her need to always protect you, she would also be spared of any dire repercussions that follows."


	38. Innate

In the weeks that follows, summer peaks with the sumptuous arrival of Konoha's Fireworks Festival. The never-ending joy simmers contently amongst villagers and visitors alike, yet a small portion of the population has retreated from the imminent celebrations.

Though outwardly changes are kept to the very minimum, the Uchihas' resentment continues to spread amongst villagers like rapid wildfire. Rumours of their Nine-tail involvement leak into every gap and crack, until even the youngest villagers are wary of who they can and cannot associate with.

Vigilant of the village's careful watch on him and rising suspicions of his recent absence, Itachi has learnt to bury the glaze expression beneath the attentive look he now presents to his father.

Uchiha Fugaku is ignorant to the minute changes in Itachi's passive hostility, however, it may be the desperation to reclaim the clan's superior standing that forces him to bypass his son's austerity.

"Itachi, ensure you are present at tomorrow night's meeting," Fugaku says.

"Yes," Itachi answers.

The hesitancy in his demeanour does little to quell Fugaku's doubt that his eldest son would adhere to such commands. But he cannot speak his mind nor his feelings, considering Itachi's abrupt departure.

The lingering diffidence should be the least of his concerns, yet as the clan's leader and the status his prodigy son holds amongst the clan and village, Itachi's loyalty is crucial to any further success.

x

"Itachi, you are blanking out again."

Her presence is that gentle breeze on a hot summer's evening. It cools the pervasive thoughts and sends a weightless serenity only his subconscious can fathom.

"It must be the weather," he answers.

Izumi frowns.

"What a horrible excuse," she replies reproachfully.

She sits beside him beneath the darkened skies, carefully perusing the faraway scenery of stunted hills.

There is something to her propinquity that spells a lifetime of contentment, yet it does not provide a level of trustworthiness that he gets being with Shisui.

Though he does not wish to categorise them so bluntly, it is the only way his mind seems to make sense of things.

With Izumi, the exchanging of words is unnecessary. Her presence is simply enough to placate his inner turmoils.

"The Fireworks Festival is coming. Will you be going?" She asks.

"That would depend on the amount of reports and errands I have," he answers.

Izumi does not speak, but her features express disappointment. And in the same moment, Itachi notices a pastiness to her skin. He likens it to the brightly lit stars, though even with such illumination, her tone is unusually chalky.

"Izumi?" He says.

He faces her square on, half expecting that she would turn and look at him. But she remains in the same sitting position, her knees pressed firmly to her chest with her arms wrapped tightly around her small body.

"What is it?" She says softly.

Izumi does not face him. Her side visage is now obscured by the fall of her hair.

Without thinking, Itachi reaches for her, gently pulling back the curtain of hair and revealing a sickening shade of white. Izumi's skin has morphed into that of a porcelain doll, albeit the colour is bizarrely artificial.

"Itachi, what are you doing?"

She breathes uneasily but does not flinch at his touch.

"Are you okay?" He asks, "You look unwell."

His voice is perplexed, a perfect mimic of the look Izumi gives him. For a brief moment, there is a flicker of anxiety that skims the surface of her gaze. He cannot read her sudden change in expression, but there is a knot of intuitive apprehension that gnaws at his core.

"I'm okay, don't worry about me," she says lightly, "just tired. A bit of sleep should do the trick."

She gestures airily at him before standing.

"Itachi, you should get some rest too. Self-care is equally as important, if not more, than missions and report writing."

Her sudden need for departure sends a wave of disconcertment through him.

"Izumi, I will see you at the Fireworks Festival," he says firmly.

Her smile is purely that of gratitude.

When she turns to leave, he cannot help but feel a sense of imminent foreboding. Though his conscious is unable to see or feel it, Izumi's existence interconnects with certain elements of himself.

As if every aspect of her world is innately linked through his intuition, he knows with utmost certainty that Izumi will disappear if he were to turn his back.


	39. Counteract

"…confidence can change one's perception of attraction. It is important to work on your body language and tone of voice. Depending on how you portray yourself, the same message can have very different meanings…"

There is silence.

"I am unable to comprehend this."

Not a single one of the twenty books scattered across the library table tells her _that_ pivotal information.

It is thirty minutes past twelve in the afternoon and the surrounding atmosphere has turned increasingly warm. Though the temperature remains steady, it is Honoka's internal that is experiencing a brigade of varying degrees.

When she briefly glances to the window for a moment's break, she sees him.

Shisui.

And Nanami.

Perhaps her mind filters unwanted images, but she does not process the latter until quite some time later. Despite their proximity to each other, Honoka cannot help but faze Nanami's presence from her vision.

Shisui is yet to be discharged from hospital, however, his remarkable recovery has enabled him to wander the hospital grounds from time to time.

The library overlooks the hospital yard, an area frequented by many patients on their supervised time outside. Ever since her dramatic encounter with Shisui, Honoka's visits prove difficult. Security has tightened and staff have been on high alert to her presence. She can no longer enter via the back sliding doors, nor the grounds during non-visit hours.

But the changes do not faze her. She is used to such treatment, yet a small part of her mourns for the loss of those unimpeded visits. Though she is glad for Shisui's recovery, there is a disturbing fragment that wishes for his unconsciousness. Perhaps she is grieving for the deprivation of quiet, alone time with him? Those nights, even if only for thirty minutes, were palliative to the painful ailment that is her loneliness.

"Honoka, is that you?"

The tone's warmth is familiar. From the depths of her reverie, she searches for its owner, until Izumi appears by her side and reality emerges.

"Izumi, how do you do?" Honoka says.

Her voice is a never ending sound of monotony yet her features reflect a less than the usual bland appearance.

At her expression, Izumi responds in bewilderment.

"I am fine. Are you studying something?" She asks curiously.

Her watch rakes the numerous piles of books strewn across two large tables.

"Yes, I am conducting an experiment that would hopefully assist me in solving this conundrum. I am finding the contents of these books rather arduous," she makes a brief gesture at the books, "and difficult to comprehend. However, if I can turn these explanations into some sort of numerical value, then it may provide a better explanation to this problem."

She speaks robotically without a single hitch in breath.

For a brief moment, Izumi appears confounded, albeit Honoka is unsure whether it is purely out of her inability to understand the comment or the actual idea surrounding the experiment itself.

"What are you conducting exactly?"

"I am trying to solve these newly spawned feelings," Honoka replies.

She draws out a large book from beneath a pile of paper and turns to a tabbed page with numerous writing.

"Izumi, you said to me that what I am feeling is love. I am trying to understand the exact definition of it. If I am able to quantify it and prove its existence, I may be able to find a method to counteract its effect."

There is a brief pause. Izumi's expression is oddly stilted, as if her conscious has disengaged itself from the part that processes meaning. Yet beneath the astonishment, there are traces of sadness and pity Honoka does not understand.

"Honoka, I don't think this is something that can be quantified," Izumi says slowly.

"I see no other way. If I cannot control what Shisui does or feel, the best I can do is control the outcome on my end. Regardless, I believe I am on to something."

When Izumi remains quiet, Honoka takes it as a cue to continue speaking.

"My heart rate increases significantly when I am in Shisui's presence, however, I have also taken blood prick samples when this strange phenomenon is occurring. I compare this sample with a control - one that I have obtained earlier when I am not around Shisui. What I notice is the rising level of cortisol in my blood sample when I am in his presence. Cortisol is released when the body is under stress, thus I can conclude that Shisui's presence increases the level of stress chemicals in my body."

In the midst of speaking, Honoka draws out a stack of papers charted with graphs, numbers and complicated looking equations.

"However, this experiment contradicts something else. During and after being around Shisui, I notice an elevated feeling of contentment, as if nothing could possibly interfere with it. I have counted that such feelings last anywhere between three hours and twenty-four hours. This does not make sense, considering the concrete evidence of elevated cortisol in my blood."

She ends the sentence unexpectedly.

On Izumi's end, there is a peculiar expression hovering, as if she is deciding on a good enough response to Honoka's oral dissertation. But the quietude stretches on, until Honoka's intrusive stare borders inappropriate.

"Are you working this hard to find a counter measure?" Izumi asks quietly.

There is a dispirit look beneath her inquisitive gaze, as if she is trying to figure Honoka's underlying motive.

"Yes, as I believe Shisui hates me and therefore it is impractical to hold such inconvenient feelings for him."

She glances glumly at the plateful of white-dotted brown sweets. In the past several days, Honoka has worked tirelessly to recover the ones lost in the midst of her dramatic entrance. Twice she has been unsuccessful in delivery - once because hospital staff caught her sneaking through the back entrance, and second, when she managed to ambush Shisui as he wandered out the hospital yard alone. Unfortunately, he had politely declined before disappearing for the hospital doors.

At Honoka's comment, Izumi is looking troubled.

"What makes you think he hates you?"

Honoka stares confoundedly.

"I have analysed his actions and behaviours in my presence, and it appears to have ticked all said criteria of hostility," she pulls out another small book from the unsteady packed pile, "I have read in this book that if someone avoids you, appears frustrated or cold towards you, refuses to speak to you and does not wish to associate with you, then it means they hate you and no longer want to be friends with you. Shisui has told me up front that he wishes to sever our friendship contract. I believe that is concrete evidence enough."

Izumi's puzzled look turns a shade of unease.

"That…doesn't sound right," she answers uncertainly.

Perhaps Izumi is re-evaluating her thoughts on Shisui, that he may not be the person she has come to associate as her friend? Regardless, her features have morphed into a parade of unreadable emotions, albeit it may be Honoka who is unable to comprehend such complexity.

"I don't know what goes on in his mind, but hate is a strong word. Shisui would never hate an enemy let alone someone he used to be friends with. You must be mistaken," Izumi continues.

"Are you able to prove such statement, Izumi? I have adequate evidence here, collated over a period of time and analysed using high quality, thoroughly researched scientific methods. I believe my explanation is justified."

Izumi is looking unconvinced.

"Did he tell you why he wanted to sever his friendship with you?"

Honoka does not immediately respond. She never pursued him for an answer, and frankly she may be holding back because of other discomforting thoughts.

"I decided not to as I have already analysed his actions and behaviours. It is also difficult to get to-"

She halts mid sentence as Shisui and Nanami reappear in the hospital yard. Immediately, the deep feelings of gloom resurface. The physical manifestation settles in her chest and constricts the very muscles that keeps her breathing.

On Izumi's end, there is an odd stoic expression played across her face. She watches the scenario with fierce attentiveness, until Shisui and Nanami disappear behind the hospital doors and her reverie breaks from the shuffling of papers.

When she speaks, her tone is quiet yet tentative.

"It must hurt you does it not? This situation?"

Honoka cannot formulate a precise answer to her question. There is a strong element of discomfort that reverberates against a blackened emptiness. Once filled with colours that resonated security, she cannot resent Shisui for taking them away from her. Because without him, she would only know the world as an inky monotone of bland.

"I do not understand what you mean by hurt as I do not have any visible wounds. But to know that I mean very little to the person who means so much to me, then yes, its physical manifestation is rather unpleasant."


	40. Different

Comrades may summarise a group of shinobis on a mission, but they can consist of individuals who do not necessary get along with each other. Yet when friends merge as comrades, the bonds strengthen and the paranoia to protect heightens.

Three days after Shisui's discharge from hospital, an assignment awaits. Itachi and Izumi have been tasked to form a three-man team with Shisui as Captain. And though such formation may be out of pure coincidence, there is an element of suspicion that cannot be dismantled from Izumi's mind.

Before the commencement of said mission, Nanami and Yuki suggests a comrade-bonding break by the village river.

"Considering you, Itachi and Shisui are not on mission for the next couple days, it would be good to have a bit of a break with friends," Yuki says.

She looks to Nanami for reinforcement.

"Yes," she answers quickly, then glances at Shisui, "It would also be a good celebration for your discharge from hospital."

"Oh, no need for that, really," Shisui waves airily, "Leaving that dreaded place is a celebration."

On Itachi's end, there is minimal response. The expression he gives suggest an agreement with the group's decision, unless an errand appears.

Izumi knows him well, yet she gets the strange feeling her judgements have been inaccurate as of late.

"Well, it's decided then," Yuki says.

"Has it really?" Izumi asks.

The question is redundant. And it seems the passive protest on Shisui's face is doing little to quell the doubts of the get together's suspension.

Nanami, however, sees through this.

"Yuki and I thought it would be something nice to celebrate…I mean, it's okay if you aren't feeling up to it, Shisui."

Her tone is meek and obscured by a veil of disappointment.

At her comment, Shisui softens.

"If that is important to you," he says kindly, "then thank you for your generosity."

Nanami does not seem to have expected the response. Her face turns a dark shade of demure that manifests in red streaks.

"A prodigy who can't seem to read between the lines," Izumi mutters so that only Itachi can hear.

The comment evokes a short inward breath from him, as if he is mid-way through suppressing a chortle.

"We will see everyone by the village waterfall tomorrow afternoon then!" Yuki cheers.

x

In the shades of their surroundings, the temperature hits an uncomfortable thirty-five degrees Celsius. Though a mellow breeze provides temporary respite, its transiency is dishearteningly swift.

At Konoha's only waterfall, they congregate by the bank that intersects the Naka river. Here, the atmosphere breathes a contentious heat of discomfort, yet the falling aqua is a tranquillising offset to the unease.

Izumi takes her seat beneath the shades of an old oak tree, followed by Itachi, who seems to have wandered in absent-mindedly with a peculiar expression on his face.

"You look stressed," Izumi frowns.

Itachi glances uncertainly at her before speaking in a surprisingly exhausted tone.

"I don't think I have ever done this before."

He stares in the direction of the remaining three individuals. Yuki busies herself setting up the tables, perhaps in a carefully planned manner that allows some proximity to Shisui and Nanami.

"You mean a get together like this with everyone?" Izumi asks.

"No," he replies shortly, "this feels like an undeserved vacation."

"Your perfectionism is getting out of hands," Izumi sighs, "what makes you think you do not deserve this?"

Itachi does not speak, but his features command a non-verbal answer. He should either be on mission, training, or at least completing errands.

Despite recent inaccuracies, (courtesy of Izumi's instinct), today marks the first time in awhile that her intuition may be correct.

"Time for lunch!"

Nanami's propinquity draws Izumi from her muse. Like Itachi, her reaction is puzzled, as if they have lost track of space and time.

"Right," Izumi answers.

As she makes to follow Itachi, Nanami takes her arm.

"Izumi, can I speak to you for a second?"

For a brief moment, there is a bemused expression played across Nanami's face. The component may have been short lived, but Izumi can see specks that have receded into the deeper layers of a very composed look.

"What is it?"

Nanami is looking wary, but the sudden sounds of Yuki's laughter penetrates the scepticism.

"Shisui…has he said anything to you about…anything…?"

The fleck of inquisitiveness may have been obvious, because Nanami quickly speaks.

"I just…" she looks to Shisui, who is chatting animatedly to Itachi, "ever since his discharge from hospital, he is a bit… _different_."

She stares gloomily at the ground.

"Different?" Izumi repeats, "How so?"

Nanami shakes her head.

"I don't know how to explain it. I mean, he is the same but not the same. I'm worried about him."

Nanami is looking sad, and for the first time ever, Izumi senses a heighten level of fear exuding from her.

"Maybe you are overthinking it too much? Shisui has only just left the hospital. He was poisoned so there may be some residual effects we don't know about."

Nanami is looking slightly perturbed, albeit there is an element of relief that may have quelled doubts about some other unknown.

"You think so?"

Izumi may not be precise with her theories, but she does not want Nanami to fall into despair should Shisui have other intentions unrelated to his recovery.

"Don't worry. We will all keep an eye on him to make sure he is okay."

x

They spend their afternoon in crystal waters, a last attempt at cooling off before sundown.

Izumi is dragged into the river for the third time, yet it takes her less than three minutes to remove herself from the waters.

"I'm not sure if I like being in there very much," Izumi says.

She submerges her feet into the placid coolness by way of compromise.

Itachi and Shisui have outright refused to join them, so they are standing by the riverbank, deeply immersed in conversation.

Yuki, however, has other ideas.

"Hey you two!"

Then, she sends a tidal wave of water in the duo's direction. Judging from its height and strength, there is chakra intermixed within. And despite anticipating the attack, only Itachi decides to move away.

"Hey that isn't very fair," Shisui says.

He gives a short broken laugh that sits somewhere between amusement and confusion.

"Yuki! Don't do that," Nanami says reproachfully.

She approaches Shisui with a towel.

"Here you go."

"Thanks," he answers gratefully, "I'll just…take this off..."

In the midst of removing his shirt, Nanami suddenly lets out a brief shriek-like gasp.

"Are you okay?" Shisui asks.

Nanami nods. And at this point, Izumi is unsure whether her pale sunburnt skin is redder, or the shade across her face.

Surprisingly, Shisui swiftly reaches into his bag and draws out another shirt.

"Aren't you prepared," Izumi smirks.

"Thought I should, considering we are here," he answers sheepishly.

"How interesting."

Her tone borders smugness.

"Why would that be? I don't really like walking around shirtless," he replies confoundedly.

At his comment, Izumi glances in Itachi's direction. Whether it was an automatic move, she cannot shake the disconcerting feeling of disappointment.

 _Why did you have to move so quickly from Yuki's attack?_

And in that simultaneous moment, there is a very slow, yet sudden motion to her left.

 _Honoka_.

She is sitting on the far end of the riverside, looking awkwardly out of place with her long skirts and overall insipid outfit. Beneath the radiating sun, her hair reflects a duller shade of brown - a perfect mimic of the bland appearance she exudes.

From her bag, Izumi watches as she draws out two books, each with numerous tabs sticking from all directions.

For a fleeting moment, Izumi gets the peculiar feeling Honoka has been in the area for quite some time. Perhaps she epitomises the notion of 'blending into the background,' but her entirety does very little to stand out on its own.

"Get lost!"

"Yuki! No!" Nanami cries.

Izumi has little time to process the sudden sounds, let alone comprehend sentences.

There is a tidal wave of water, stronger than that previously, originating from Yuki's direction. The immense force tear at branches, propelling them towards the manipulated waters in a mass of spikes.

Honoka, who is looking remarkably unnerved in the seconds before the attack, has barely moved from her position.

Though she is visibly hurt, she shows no signs of overt protest. Her only reaction is the very brief glance she sends Shisui, who is watching the situation with an inexplicable expression.

Without a word, Honoka departs the scene. Her features remain monotonous, yet Izumi senses a flicker of terror beneath that very stoic composure.

On Shisui's end, the unreadable expression lingers. Perhaps lost in his own thoughts, he does not immediately respond to Nanami's calling.

"Shisui?" She says quietly.

Only when Nanami takes his hand does he seemingly break from his reverie.

"Sorry," he says airily.

Nanami is looking unconvinced.

"How about we take a walk?"

"Oh I'm okay really-"

"I think that's a brilliant idea. A nice sunset stroll," Yuki interjects.

He breathes in resignation.

"Sure, why not."

Yuki parts way with them thereafter, leaving Izumi and Itachi behind.

"Is everything okay with Shisui?" she asks.

Itachi does not immediately respond. There are traces of uncertainty suffusing his expression, however, he seems unwilling to express them.

"He's probably still recovering from that poison is my guess."

Despite the pragmatic answer, intuition tells her that Itachi may not be entirely truthful.


	41. Regret

The books mar with the vice of water and chakra. Its heftiness seeps through the layers with confidence, infiltrating pages and merging lines of written ink.

He holds them firm, perhaps with more force than necessary, as if afraid they would slide into nothingness.

Between the emptiness of a vast alleyway, she halts at the call of her name.

"Honoka!"

His voice carries into the hollow surroundings, resounding eerily against the blackened walls of neglected architecture. The space connecting them is a wide pathway that runs parallel into the infinite shadows.

When she turns, there is an odd expression that imprints itself beneath her very blank, subdued features. Her clothes are drenched with the heaviness of torment, but the trail of water that tracks behind her is undoubtedly deceitful.

"Shisui," she says vacantly, "how do you do?"

Behind her is that strange building that brought a questionable chill to his conscious since he first saw her emerge from it.

"Your…books," he replies uneasily, "You left them behind."

He does not question the titles. If perhaps this was the first time he met her, the intrigue may have pushed him to enquire. But his knowledge of her has quelled any further inquisitiveness stemming from books that teaches about 'how to hate someone' and 'coping with losing friends.'

She takes them from him without speaking, albeit her sudden proximity brings forth that same involuntary jolt.

"I'm sorry what happened back there. Are you okay?" He asks.

"Shisui, are you checking up on me to ensure that I am not hurt?"

Her blank features briefly morphs into interest.

"I…suppose so," he answers quickly.

"Yes, I am fine. Thank you for your concern and enquiry."

She gives an awkward bow that stems word for word from a book rather than the common sense of social etiquette. Regardless, the extreme politeness sits uneasily in the atmosphere.

"I wish you a goodnight," she says.

When she turns for that same building, the words leave him in a flurry of apprehension and curiosity.

"Do you need something in there?"

She returns his comment with a bemused watch.

"Need something? I do not. Lord Mizuku is just waiting for me," she answers.

His reaction stalls, as if he did not fully anticipate her blunt response.

"Right, your relationship with him."

"Relationship? I do not understand."

Even speaking of such topics, he should not dismiss Honoka's naivety towards complex social understanding.

"I never knew you had that sort of arrangement."

"Shisui, why do you look troubled?"

At this point, Honoka may have evolved to label the disconcerted expression permeating his features.

"Sorry, that was rude of me," he replies.

She stares at him for an unusually long time, as if she is searching for a specific non-verbal explanation.

"Are you perhaps troubled about my arrangements with Lord Mizuku?"

"I'm not going to question what you do in your private life," he answers swiftly.

He is renowned when it comes to withholding negative emotions and maintaining perfect composure, yet there is a consistent common denominator that breaks this flawless self-control - _Honoka_.

His agitation may show but he is unaware of its extent until Honoka speaks.

"It is an order."

"An order?"

For the first time, he questions as if he does not understand, yet every part of him comprehended every letter.

"Shisui, just as you are ordered to complete missions, to spy, to infiltrate, to assassinate, all in the name of protecting the village, I too have orders and missions to complete in the interest of protecting people here."

"How does this have anything to do with protecting people?"

"Who knows."

Her short statement translates as an obedient worker who does not question authority.

"Shisui, I may have something that may assist in quelling your unease."

She pulls out a stack of paper from her bag and hands them to him.

"Please pardon the disorderly writing but I have been working very hard on this conundrum. I have come up with a hypothesis based on the circumstances surrounding recent events and the severing of our friendship contract."

Shisui has little time to grasp the numerous amount of numbers, graphs and charts before Honoka continues to speak in a very brisk and monotonous tone.

"I have noticed a trend, that the more I converse in close proximity with you, the further you distance yourself from me. This seemingly worsens with frequency. When I speak of the word distance, it means both physically and emotionally. You may also be wondering how I have come to such hypothesis," she gives a brief pause before continuing,

"Well if you look here on these charts," she points to a piece of paper with numerous columns, "this documents the amount of time I have counted that you have diverged from your usual self when we still had our friendship contract. The only issue is that I have only recently started recording the data, even though the issue started months ago. However, I have sufficient recent data to make up for the earlier ones. Regardless, it seems to me that these newly spawned feelings I have in your presence, and some other new uncomfortable ones, have been directly connected to the above circumstances."

At the conclusion of her explanation, Shisui is looking unexpectedly intrigued. He does not fault her meticulous attention to detail nor the flawless explanation that he finds so unquestionably accurate.

When he gives her an unintended smile that expounds a composure he does not recognise, Honoka's bland expression turns into bewilderment.

"Well then, what will you do with all this data?" He asks lightly.

As if unsure of the earlier meaning behind his smile, Honoka is looking slightly relieved at his question.

"Yes, I am glad you asked. If you look here," she shows him another piece of paper with numerous writing, "these are some possible solutions to counteract the newly spawned feelings based on my findings. As you can see, one of this is to restrict the amount of time in your presence, whether you are aware of it or not-"

She stops abruptly. There is an unusual look of paralysis spread across her demeanour, as if she has spoken something she should not have.

"-another measure is keeping the mind occupied with something completely unrelated," she finishes hastily.

She keeps silent for several moments before speaking again.

"Do not worry, Shisui. I will resolve this and I will find a solution to the problem. Please be assured that my impeding behaviour will drastically reduce in the coming weeks as I implement these measures. I have read some interesting theories that I may be able to convert into practice."

Honoka steps back and gives him a long bow of deepest respect.

Shisui does not tune in to her actions, rather it is one of those rarer moments where he remains unusually attentive to the scientific expository of her relationship experiment.

In that same moment, he can hear Itachi's forewarning of Honoka's needless actions to protect him. Shisui has not forgotten the ideology around her 'unnecessary suffering.' Even if he has suppressed those words for quite some time, it may be Honoka's incessant need to prove and resolve an issue with no definitive answer that has unravelled his desires to follow through with Itachi's suggestion.

"Sorry, Honoka," he says quietly.

He grips either side of her shoulders.

In that moment, Honoka sends him a look of reticent that does little to pacify the insidious motive behind his impending action. Her sudden faltering smile is like the infrequent moments of sun and rain, short-lived yet fascinating.

"Shisui, I believe this is the first time I have seen the _Sharingan_ up close," she says surprisingly.

She stares at him before a frown suffuses her features.

"But, I don't think I have ever seen a pattern like that one before," she continues.

Shisui gives her a soft transient smile.

"Is that so?"

It is the first time he is in doubt of his decision, yet either way, regret will follow him.

 _Sorry, Honoka, a thousand times and more._


End file.
